


Lady Adyé: The Resistance Commander

by DarkLadyAthara



Series: The Lady Adyé Series [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Lady Adyé Series, Original Character-centric, Romance, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Self-Denial, Sequel, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-10 06:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 84,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12906030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLadyAthara/pseuds/DarkLadyAthara
Summary: A Star Wars Sequel Trilogy FanFictionAs Red Leader with the Resistance, Commander Ana Adyé was perfectly content living without the Force. Thanks to the shadows in her past, she wanted nothing to do with it or the last name she was born with: Skywalker.But when the Force begins to wake, stirred by events a long time coming, Ana will have to face whether or not she'll be able resist its call......or if it ever really left her at all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: To my eternal disappointment, I do not own Star Wars...else there would be a few things done differently...like a certain character or two making it into the movies :P I only own my own characters and the tweaks I have made :) If it wasn't in the Movies (or their corresponding Visual Dictionaries and other supplementary materials), or in the odd but rare case EU or the different TV series, it's mine.
> 
> This story is the third part of The Lady Adyé Trilogy, and reading at least Part Two, 'Lady Obscura: Little More than a Shadow' is recommended.
> 
> This story is also posted on FanFiction. net and Wattpad under the same title and penname.
> 
> Further: I am still considering this a work in progress! I am severely breaking one of my own rules by posting what I have 'finished' since there is still one more movie yet to come out! But I'm just too darn excited! So there is a very real chance that I will go back and edit/revise/change things when the next movie is released. Nothing major! Details only, I assure you.
> 
> So be warned! When Episode IX comes out, I may be going back and adjusting details as necessary.
> 
> Of course, I can't post Lady Adyé without a special thanks to OctoberOpal over on FFN, who effectively Beta'ed the first 23 chapters. Some suggestions were followed, some inspired different ideas and some didn't fit with the vision I have of the story, but regardless, I owe a huge thanks for the time and effort that was put into them. Thank you, OctoberOpal. I hope you approve of what your effort helped bring about. :)

“That’s it. Calm your mind, Ana. Let the Force in. Let it guide you.” Ana focused on her mother’s voice, feeling the lightsaber warm and humming in her hand, letting herself open up to the Force. A faint whirring buzz made its way past the helmet covering her ears and her eyes. The training remote had shifted again. Ana pushed back the urge to try and discern where it was using her physical senses, instead relying on the Force to tell her as her parents had taught her. A flicker alerted her and almost without her say, the blade was whirling around her, deflecting three darts from the training remote and two more from the second remote beside her that her ears hadn’t alerted her to.

The lightsaber winked out in her hand as she shoved the helmet back, fixing Athara with a disgruntled glare.

“That’s cheating! You didn’t say you were activating the second one yet!” Athara’s eyebrow rose as a stern expression appeared on her face, causing Ana to bite back what she had been about to say next. But then her mother smiled.

“You need to be prepared for anything. And you handled it perfectly well, so stop complaining.” Her lip quirked again before Athara made an absent gesture with her hand. The remotes sprang to life again, darting and rotating as they took up their positions. “Now, again,” she ordered, “unless you’d rather give up.” The Lady Jedi held out her hand, waiting to see if Ana would surrender the lightsaber. Ana looked down to the unlit saber in her hands. Her mother’s lightsaber was familiar and comforting to hold, even though it was still a little large for Ana’s hands, but that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. She looked up at her mother, ignoring the way her body was aching from her exercises. Athara’s eyes were pleased as she smiled knowingly at Ana. She reached out, brushing her fingers over Ana’s cheek and tucking a few escaping strands of her sandy hair back behind her ear.

“That’s my girl,” she said warmly, her voice soft and proud as she settled the helmet back into place over Ana’s eyes, “Don’t give up. Just keep fighting. And remember: as the Force will always be with you, so shall I.” A split-second of panic flashed through Ana as her mother was hidden abruptly from sight, but Athara’s strong hand squeezed gently on Ana’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, my darling girl.” Ana thumbed the activation on the hilt, fully expecting the familiar hum of the blade coming to life.

She heard the hum, but she felt the hilt coming apart in her hands. She heard cries and screams. She felt a searing pain beyond comprehension. Then nothing.

A dark, horrifying nothing.

Then her mother’s voice.

 _Keep fighting_.

Ana’s eyes were suddenly open and her body jerked as she was slammed into consciousness, the vision dissolving even as her mother’s voice lingered in her thoughts. Immediately she wished she hadn’t woken at all, tears springing to her eyes as it felt like needles were stabbing into them from the bright light overhead. Then the tears were spilling over, flooding down her cheeks at the deep, searing ache that seemed to suffuse her whole body. A hoarse cry tore from her throat as she was suddenly aware of the pain’s origin slashing with horrible, blazing intensity across her torso. A cool hand was suddenly in hers and she was squeezing on it hard enough that dimly she realized she must have been hurting them. But she couldn’t think that rationally. It was too much. It hurt too much. A whimper escaped her as her body, tense and wound tight as a spring, trembled with the pain.

Another cool hand was brushing across her forehead, peeling back strands of hair from her sweat-soaked face. She could feel her lips moving, begging for it to stop, for her Mother or Father to make it stop. Images and memories tried to reach at her through the excruciating pain, but she couldn’t quite see them…she didn’t want to see them. Over her, she could hear anxious voices speaking in fearful tones, but she couldn’t make out a word.

Then she was blissfully sinking into the oblivion of a drug-induced sleep.

When her eyes opened again the intensity of the pain had faded, leaving only a dull ache that spread across her front. Her eyelids felt thick and swollen, her vision bleary, but she was awake and aware enough to recognize the pale face of her Aunt Leia looking down at her. Leia smiled, the older woman’s relief plain to see. Ana was confused. Nothing looked familiar. The cot she was on was not exactly hard, but neither was it comfortable; not that the tender ache across her torso was helping there. She tried to speak, to ask one of the million questions suddenly on her mind, but Leia’s hand brushed over Ana’s cheek, gesturing for her to stay quiet before falling to stroke Ana’s hair.

“You’re safe, sweetheart. You’re safe with me and your Uncle on the Resistance Base.” It was then that Ana realized there was a heavy hand resting on her calf and she caught a glimpse of her Uncle Han’s worried face over her Aunt’s shoulder. “You were hurt badly, but you’re going to be okay,” her Aunt continued, her voice low and soothing, “you’ve been unconscious for several days.”

“We thought we lost you, Kiddo,” her uncle added softly, his voice raspy and gruff with emotion. Ana wanted to speak, but she hurt too much; her throat was dry and fuzzy and it felt like she wasn’t getting enough air into her lungs. But she needed to speak. She needed to ask.

“Wher—where’s Ma—where’s my Mom. I—I want—want my Dad…” For a split-second a stricken look flashed over her Aunt’s face and her Uncle’s gaze dropped. It only served to confuse Ana more, a wave of fear beginning to grow in her chest.

“Where’s my Mama, my Daddy,” she managed to whisper, her voice wavering and pleading, her desperation painful even to her own ears. She needed to know. They had to be here. “Where are they? Are they here? Are they going to be alright? Please—” Leia’s trembling fingers continued stroking Ana’s hair as she visibly struggled with what to say.

“Ana…the Academy was attacked,” Leia hesitated at the bewildered look on Ana’s face before she pressed on, “do you remember anything?”

Ana’s chest hurt it felt so tight with anxiety. She felt her lip beginning to tremble with it. Then she remembered what her parents would have reminded her to do. Ana closed her eyes and reached out for the Force, to let it calm her and tell her what she needed to know.

But as she reached out to it she knew. But she refused to believe it, recoiling in pain at what the Force was telling her. Her eyes flashed open, trying not to see the images flooding back before her mind’s eye as her memory was triggered by the simple, empty sensation through the Force; images of still forms and blood; a dark figure and menacing glow; her mother’s lightsaber flying into her hand moments before a familiar blue blade sliced it neatly in two; the pain of realizing who held it somehow feeling greater than the pain of the lightsaber slashing across her body.

Ana suddenly couldn’t see as tears flooded to her eyes, her head shaking in denial. It had been a nightmare. None of it had actually happened. It couldn’t have…he wouldn’t…her mother…

Her Aunt’s face crumpled as Leia realized Ana’s memories of the attack had returned. Her hand closed around Ana’s, holding it close to her heart as her other hand continued to stroke Ana’s hair, trying to comfort her as best she could.

“Sweetheart, there’s—there’s no one left. When we found you…at first—at first we thought you we gone too. We’d almost given up hope… And your father—” Leia hesitated, glancing to Han, her eyes anguished and conflicted before she turned back to Ana. “He had to go, Ana. He will come back,” Leia tried to assure her, but Ana could see with heartbreaking certainty that her Aunt wasn’t so sure, “but right now he…he just needs time. He will realize he needs to come back. For you.” Ana couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak, but as tears pooled in her eyes and began spilling down her cheeks, her lips managed to form her silent question. Leia’s eyes were so sad as she looked down at her niece, her head shaking slowly.

“You and your father were the only survivors, sweetheart.”

Ana felt like her heart…no, her very world…was shattering.


	2. Chapter 1

It was with an involuntary sigh of relief that Commander Ana Adyé descended the boarding ramp onto the landing pad of D’Qar’s Resistance Base. The Base had come to feel a bit like home and Ana always felt a bit like a weight was lifting when she returned after a mission.

She loved the bustle and pace of the Base, the way the X-wings sat basking in the sun between the hangar berms, lovingly tended and maintained by skilled hands. There was something thrilling yet still comforting in the atmosphere of the Base, especially the fighter pad, that Ana could never seem to get enough of.

And of course, she couldn’t help but grin as she spied her own fighter down near the end of the row to her right, its beautiful red stripes having replaced the thick blue bands that decorated the rest of the Resistance fighters. It was reminiscent of the classic Rebellion Era X-wing colour scheme, and Ana loved it; she’d learned to fly in one of those old T-65s, so they held a special place in her heart.

The General had nearly rolled her eyes when Ana had announced a couple months before that, in honour of her promotion, she’d had her fighter painted. A few of the other pilots had grumbled jealously, but most had thought it was great and were murmuring about assigning each squadron different paint schemes, now. Some of the Resistance brass had been less than enthusiastic about her initiative but no one had yet tried to seriously convince or order her to change it back. Not that Ana thought for a moment that any such action should be necessary. After all, why should Commander Dameron be the only one to have a custom paint job for his fighter? His X-wing was black, as suited Black Leader; why couldn’t Red Leader have a red fighter?

She couldn’t help but remember with amusement how hard Commander Dameron had been trying not to laugh when General Organa had confronted Ana about her fighter’s chromatic upgrade. He’d tried so hard to fix her with a stern look as the General laid into her about the unauthorized paint job, knowing as well as Ana did that he was supposed to be supporting the General’s position on the matter. He’d been especially hard-pressed not to grin at her audacity to point out his fighter’s black and orange colour scheme.

And what had he said almost the instant General Organa had turned and stalked away? “Not a bad look, Adyé. Very apropos. Maybe not the most original paint scheme, but I like it.” She had promptly swatted him on the arm, biting back a smile at the cheeky comment. Not at all in line with the his official stance.

Though, if Ana remembered right, her Aunt’s eyes had been sparkling with amusement of her own during the incident. She knew very well her Aunt had a soft spot for her, even if they weren’t quite as close as Ana was with her Uncle. Besides, ultimately a paint job was really not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, so Leia had been able to take it easy on Ana as a result. They were just about the only family each other had left, but Leia wasn’t about to go easy on Ana because of it.

Not unless she could get away with it without raising too many questions, at least.

That, and Ana was a fair pilot and the Resistance needed every one they could get…

The sight of her fighter and the memory of his not-quite-secret approval of its paint job inevitably brought her thoughts around to Poe.

Shortly before Ana had left on her supply acquisition run, she’d caught word on the fighter pad that the Commander had been about to leave on a last-minute mission of his own. Ana had invariably been intrigued, having heard nothing about any missions beyond her own that required a squadron commander’s attention. So when she caught sight of Poe hopping into one of the auxiliary X-wings instead of his usual one, she hadn’t been able to help but pop over and ask.

“Oh, Adyé. Try all you like, but you’re not getting a word out of me,” he’d teased back from his perch up on the fighter’s fuselage. “It’s a secret mission from the General herself, so my lips are sealed.” Then he’d smirked at her indignant scoff, knowing that his silence on details was going to bug her the whole time she was off on her own mission.

And, of course, he’d been right. She had been tempted to track down the General and try and wheedle details out of her, she was so curious. It would have been a challenge, but Ana knew her Aunt well enough that she imagined she could have gotten the truth out of her. But Ana had already been committed to a pressing engagement on Ansion with Bek Reem, an old ally of the Rebellion and an old friend of hers.

Thinking now on what little she had heard of Poe’s mission and what he’d said when she questioned him, Ana figured he should have made it back long before her. As she looked back at the ground crew making short work of the cargo from the _Amaran_ _Flame_ , she decided once she had reported in with Central Command, she’d see about tracking down Poe and trying to get him to spill on this secret mission of his.

It was then that she noticed the fighter he’d taken for the mission was conspicuously absent from its hangar. And despite her own better judgment, she grew inexplicably concerned. Unable to simply ignore the feeling, she pulled over a flight officer to ask.

“He hasn’t returned yet, Commander,” the officer said, unease making its way across his features. “We were told to expect him back earlier today, but he hasn’t arrived. And I’ve received no further instruction save to stay on standby.” Ana couldn’t help but frown, the lump of unease beginning to press more insistently against her breastbone. That did not sound good.

Since joining the Resistance Fighter Corps, she had gotten to know Commander Poe Dameron quite well. Well enough, really, that she easily considered him her dearest friend. Touted as the best pilot in the Resistance, there weren’t many who could out-fly the dashing Commander, but Ana was one of the few who could seriously challenge him, perhaps even actually out-fly him. Not that many knew it; she didn’t tend to show off quite so extensively as Poe did. She wasn’t hugely fond of the attention. Still, she was the only pilot so far to have nearly beaten him in a combat training flight, only losing because of a miscalculation on her part due to her inexperience at the time in flying the T-70s. It had been that training flight that had simultaneously earned her a spot in the Resistance Starfighter Corps.

Which, of course, had let to exactly some of the notoriety she was always keen to avoid. Interest had naturally been raised in her when she was given a place in Red Squadron and soon enough too many questions that she wasn’t interested in answering were being thrown her way. Questions about her history; where she’d come from before joining up with the Resistance; who taught her to fly; what past experience she had; how she did it; the list of questions that came too close to memories she tried studiously to avoid went on and on. She just wanted to fly, not to delve into her abilities, her past and just whom she may or may not be related to.

After all, if anyone cared to dig deeply enough into what little of her history she did share, they would inevitably find their digging led back to the Skywalkers, and Ana was quite keen on that _not_ happening

It had meant those first few weeks in the Corp had been uncomfortable to say the least, with Ana sidestepping questions at every opportunity. And when sidestepping and deflecting hadn’t worked? She got snappish and defensive. Looking back? How she hadn’t alienated herself completely was almost completely beyond her. Though, she suspected it all came back to Poe. He hadn’t backed away when she’d accused him of sticking his nose in where it hadn’t belonged. He’d just shrugged and given her one of his friendly crooked grins.

“Ease up, Adyé,” he’d brushed off. “You only had to say you didn’t want to share.” It had set her off-balance, and she’d only been able to blink at him. Until her eyes had narrowed thoughtfully.

“You don’t want to know more about me?” He’d shrugged.

“Well, yeah, I guess I do. No one knows much about where you came from before you showed up on the pad, so we’re all a bit curious I suppose. But you’re not the only one on Base to prefer to keep your past to yourself.” He’d grinned widely then and, much to Ana’s surprise, she had been grinning back before she could stop herself. “Besides, does any of it really matter? You’re a heck of a pilot, Adyé. I need someone around who can keep me on my toes.” And, bewilderingly enough, she had believed him and he had proven worthy of that belief.

It had lead to the kind of easy camaraderie common within the Corps and eventually to a lively, almost effortless friendship. Ana was perfectly okay with Poe getting all the attention that came with being known as the best pilot in the Resistance and he seemed to thrive on her constant, if quiet, challenge of his reputation as the best pilot in the Corps. Besides, she had far too much fun teasing him that it secretly bothered him that they both knew she was the better pilot. And naturally, he always fervently denied it, a wide, charming grin lighting up his face.

When Poe and Ana bickered—which was fairly frequently if she was being honest, especially since he took his role in the Resistance far more seriously than she did—it was always with a spirit of fun. Even when their disagreements were genuine, in a heartbeat they would be over it and Ana and Poe would be back to their light-hearted banter. It was a bit of a strange relationship, Ana had to admit, but she’d come to rely on it. She didn’t have many people she was close to, for obvious reasons. Poe, despite his headstrong bravado and tendency to recklessness—not that she was any better in the cockpit, really—was a steady and unfailingly loyal and selfless friend. He rarely pried unless he believed it truly necessary and he took most of her idiosyncrasies when it came to her background and past in stride. Plus he was just plain fun to banter, bicker and even outright flirt with.

And rather nice to look at too…

…and a pretty good kisser.

She pushed thought of that aspect of their unconventional relationship aside. There was a time and a place, but when she was about to report to the General was certainly not the time.

Leia Organa had an uncanny ability to pick out Ana’s thoughts without even relying on the Force, something that annoyed Ana to no end. It was hard to keep secrets from the General, especially when one was family. Especially family as close as their little family had been forced to become. Not for the first time Ana disparaged of that particular talent of her Aunt’s. She was sure it had something to do with Leia’s strength with the Force, even if only inadvertently. She knew it was possible to read a person’s thoughts with the Force, but her Aunt denied ever learning to do such a thing, and any time Ana bothered to complain about it?

Her Aunt would simply pat her cheek, smile wryly and say: “I guess I just know you too well.” Every time. Grudgingly Ana believed her.

Leia had refused to train as a Jedi, no matter that she was incredibly strong with the Force herself, instead insisting that she had other responsibilities. Though, in the years since she’d learned the full story about her parents’ and grandparents’ pasts, Ana had come to suspect that it had more to do with family history than a lack of time or desire on Leia’s part. But her Aunt had never indicated if that was truly the case or not.

Though, privately Ana did suspect the General had consented to some measure of basic instruction nevertheless, even if it only resulted in a heightened awareness.

Especially when it came to deciphering Ana’s thoughts…

But that was beside the point. When it came to the Force Ana really couldn’t care.

A cheerful warble sounded beside her as R3-N3 came trundling up beside her, the green and silver astrodroid chattering happily about being back on Base. Chuckling, Ana patted his rounded dome in agreement, motioning him to follow her as she headed for the Command Centre. N3 had been her almost constant companion for the last several years, just as he had been her mother’s before her. It felt like he rarely left her side, often refusing to work seriously with any other pilots the way other astromechs in the Resistance did. Even when she’d just been a mechanic, he stayed with her rather than going up on missions with other fighter pilots, no matter that she told him he could if he wanted to. He always declined, preferring to help her as she worked on maintaining the fighters themselves. But then, he was hers, so that wasn’t entirely surprising.

And she was okay with that. He was, after all, one of the last, precious few links she had to her mother. Unconsciously, her hand rose to close around the small red and blue stone pendant around her neck at the thought. He was certainly one of the rare few she didn’t mind.

Ana paused at the base of the stairs that led to the underground Command Centre, waiting patiently for N3 to work his way down, before striding purposefully in, scanning the milling personnel for the one petite figure she needed to see.

She caught sight of the General speaking with a batch of command techs near the long-range sensor stations, obviously in the middle of some sort of briefing. Not terribly interested in interrupting, Ana dropped into a seat before one of the unoccupied consoles that populated the Command Hub to submit her report on the supply mission she’d just returned from along with the intelligence Reem had provided.

It wasn’t like it was a particularly interesting mission, though Reem had seemed to be deliberately trying to provoke her…again.

As always, he had all but greeted her with the ever recurring question of: “so when are you going to come back.” And as usual, Ana’s first reaction had been an half-hearted groan.

“You don’t give up, do you,” she’d said back as she always did, half amused and half irritated. She had left for a reason, after all, fond as she was of her time with Reem. The entire exchange was practically scripted, it had been repeated so often, now. As expected, Reem’s response was to ignore the dry comment.

“I still have a pilot’s seat for you,” he’d continued as predicted. “Not to mention I need a mechanic who knows a Harris wrench from a hydrospanner, and the guy who replaced you isn’t one of those. Neither’s his replacement.” He’d chuffed irritably then, fixing her with a three-eyed stare before adding an incentive she hadn’t heard before. “I might even be tempted to throw in first mate position along with it.” Naturally, Ana had scoffed at the offer despite the warm feeling it nevertheless evoked and the temptation that came with it.

“And let you demote Keale? Throw him out on the landing pad? C’mon, Reem,” she had laughed. Behind her, where he’d been overseeing the loading of one of Reem’s repulsorlifts, Keale had chuffed with amusement, the younger Gran obviously not feeling any real threat to his position; Reem futilely asking her back aboard was nearly a tradition, and his crew knew it. Reem had shrugged, eying her as she’d hefted another crate onto the repulsorlift they were working on.

“You know you can trust my crew, right? They wouldn’t say a word. You can use all those fancy tricks here without worrying about anyone making a big deal out of it.” Ana’s jaw had clenched at that.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she had responded tightly. He knew the Force was a sore topic with her, yet he continually tried to bring it up. He just couldn’t seem to accept that she had absolutely no interest in it. There were too many shadows in her past because of the Force. Because of that, she hadn’t touched it in years, burying that part of herself deep down, hiding the her ability to touch it away from everyone…and herself. She refused to allow herself to give into it. She was half-convinced she wouldn’t be able to touch it again if she tried. It was no longer a part of her life and she was perfectly happy with that. In her experience, the Force led to nothing but pain.

As far as she was concerned, the Force was little more than an abstract concept from an old saying.

And yet Reem refused to leave it alone.

She blamed it on his friendship with her mother.

But, as usual, Reem had merely rolled his eyes at her response and continued on as though she hadn’t said a word.

“Hell, if you came back? You wouldn’t have to hide them at all if you really didn’t want to. You wouldn’t have to hide anything about who you are. Not like you do with the Resistance—”

“Which you put me up to,” she had pointed out, her jaw growing tighter with every word he’d spoken. He’d waved off the comment.

“—or like your mother had to do with the Rebellion…did I ever tell you how it was on a mission just like this where she met your—” The crate Ana had been lifting landed on the repulsorlift with a loud bang, drawing several eyes to them. Even as Ana had glared at him, the old Gran had waved them off. As the members of his crew had moved off with another load to transfer onto Ana’s ship, the Gran had turned his three-eyed gaze soberly to Ana.

“And that’s why I left, Reem,” she’d said lowly, “and why I won’t come back.” Reem had sighed, opening his mouth to speak, but Ana had cut him off. “I asked you, nearly begged, for you not to bring stories like that up. But you didn’t listen.” Impatiently, the Gran had scratched at his left eyestalk.

“Ana, you can’t run from it forever. Who you are won’t stay secret forever.” She’d bristled.

“Says who?”

“Your mom’s secret came out. She joined up with the Rebellion and it was only a matter of time,” he’d countered instead, crossing his arms confidently. Ana’s own arms had crossed then, only hers with defiance. The old smuggler was stubborn, but Ana was just as much so.

“And whose fault was that,” she’d countered accusingly.

“Her own,” Reem had answered without hesitation, “she believed in your father so she—”

“Stop it,” Ana had snapped then, snatching up and slamming another crate down on the repulsorlift. “Don’t. Bring. Him. Up.” The Gran had lifted his hands in surrender, then, having reached the inevitable point where he’d recognized that he’d pushed as far as was wise. And this time, Ana recalled with a frustrated huff, he’d very nearly pushed too far. But, at least by the time she’d been ready to leave, he had the sense to follow her lead and act like the whole exchange hadn’t happened. Even if he had still been watching her with a familiar mixture of frustration and disappointment.

Well, he hadn’t been the only one frustrated by that point.

But, even if he had been less than cooperative when it came to Ana’s desire to leave the past in the past, he had at least had some interesting intel to pass along. “There are some new whispers about the First Order’s secret Base going around,” he’d grumbled. Had Ana not known him as long as she had, she might not have picked up the worry in his gruff tone. “It’s a big one, Ana. If the rumours about the building materials they’ve been commissioning are anywhere close to true? The range of them? The quantities?” Ana’s gut had churned as he’d pressed a data chip into her palm. “More than that, it sounds like it’s almost done.”

Not that the information hadn’t been entirely new or particularly informative. They still knew next to nothing about this secret Base. And if Reem’s whispers were right? Not only was it nearing completion, but the weapon associated with it would soon be operational.

There was an overwhelming sense to Ana that everything was on the verge of changing. She hated the feeling; it made her edgy and uneasy. But not because she didn’t like change; change she could handle. Her life had been a series of abrupt changes and shocking upheavals. She’d always adapted to change. She’d had to. Her Uncle called her a survivor, just like her mother.

No. It wasn’t the change that unsettled her. It was that she had the unsettling suspicion as to why she got the sense at all. It was too strong to be just an ordinary feeling. No matter how vehemently she denied the possibility to herself, she still couldn’t help but wonder, deep down, if it was a Force-driven sensation.

That was what bothered her.


	3. Chapter 2

“How did it go, Commander?” Ana looked up from the station console where she was uploading Reem’s Intel packet to see General Organa coming to stand next to her. She shot Leia a smile.

“Successful, but I didn’t exactly expect it to be a hard mission. Reem had forty-two crates of medical supplies for us and another thirty-eight of diagnostic equipment. It’s all being unloaded and distributed now.” She gestured absently toward the console, “plus he had a new data packet with intel for us and a few more rumors on the First Order’s mystery Base; there’s not likely anything truly important that we haven’t heard before, he said, but I’m still uploading the intelligence to the Central Computer anyway. There might be something there. Long story short, it went rather well.” Leia looked satisfied, her expression turning distant for a moment as she scanned over the intel Ana had been uploading on the station she sat at, nodding absently as she processed the file currently displayed, reaching forward to scroll through it. More than that, with her focus on the screen, Leia’s concern became more evident, her worry and unease surfacing from where it lingered, carefully hidden, to shadow her features. And her Aunt had good cause to be worried.

When Ana had first joined the Resistance, it had been just as much an escape as her time on Reem’s ship had been and she’d been correspondingly unconcerned with the broader purpose of the Resistance. Especially when compared to others like Poe or her Aunt. She’d just wanted to fix things, fly things and forget everything else. But with with the intelligence that had been trickling in the last couple years? The rumours they’d been hearing about what the First Order was skulking around doing? Well, it was enough the make Ana’s stomach churn with dread. She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She’d grown up hearing about the evils the Empire had subjected the Galaxy to, especially from her Aunt and Uncle. This latest news that the First Order’s new Base was nearing completion did very little to allay Ana’s growing fears. The First Order was growing more dangerous, turning into a very real threat that the Republic and the Senate seemed determined to discount.

Ana was slowly coming to seriously believe, just as her Aunt and the rest of the Resistance already did, that it was a huge mistake to so purposefully overlook the First Order as an impotent collection of Imperial fanatics holding on to the fading philosophies of a dead regime. It was an unpopular belief in the Senate—thanks to a growing faction of corrupted Senators in the pocket of the First Order, Ana always recalled bitterly—and one that had made her Aunt, once a revered and respected political figure, a virtual pariah labeled as little more than a paranoid warmonger. Even visiting the current Capital of the Republic, much less appearing before the Senate, was an invitation for reprisal and even assassination for General Organa. The last time she had visited the Capitol, had Leia and her companions been any less vigilant, one of the attempts to intimidate and even harm the Alderaanian Princess might very well have succeeded; it had made the gravity of the First Order’s threat feel very real for Ana. Very few Senators and politicians believed and supported her, and fewer still did so openly.

But opinions were slowly beginning to shift. Those in the Resistance were no longer the only ones to realize just how genuine the threat of the First Order really was. That very realization was a driving force behind recent recruitment for the Resistance. The Galaxy was beginning to recognize that the First Order was more than just a collection of Imperial wannabes, even if the Senate willfully did not. To the point where Leia was finally beginning to make headway brokering alliances and gathering support throughout the galaxy, growing the Resistance’s support base. Enough so that there were rumours going around the Base that there was a growing force of Resistance allies beginning to gather in the Outer Rim, waiting on Leia’s word to throw in their support. All because the First Order was no longer content to grow in the shadows.

What intelligence they had didn’t lie; the First Order was mobilizing, had built a new fleet and had expanded their forces, blatantly disregarding the terms of the Military Disarmament Act. Not to mention the actual military engagements that the First Order had instigated across the Galaxy; the writing was on the wall. The First Order has grown into a force to be reckoned with.

More than that, there was no telling how long this activity had been going on for. It had already been happening when the General began organizing the Resistance, and that was years ago now. It was entirely possible that the First Order forces now out-numbered and outgunned the Resistance _and_ the Republic Fleet. They simply didn’t know.

But for all that there was so little real intelligence about the First Order’s intentions or their plans, it was becoming increasingly clear that they were zealously dedicated, highly disciplined and worryingly secretive; they were growing rather formidable, and the knowledge of that was beginning to sharpen Ana’s previous lack of real interest in the ideology behind the Resistance into something else. Something that was beginning to feel suspiciously like resolve.

Especially if the spreading whispers about the rising power and influence of a particular ruthless, masked Jedi-killer meant what she feared it did. Ana fought to suppress a shiver.

After a moment her Aunt straightened, her cursory look at a portion of Reem’s Intelligence as it uploaded revealing nothing monumental. As was expected, really. Reem had warned her, and Ana had warned Leia in turn.

But then Leia fixed Ana with a knowing look.

“And that’s all Reem had to say?” the General asked wryly. Ana forced back both the hesitation and the scowl that threatened, instead waving away the question with an exasperated gesture and hum.

“Just the usual; Reem wants me to come work for him again,” Ana offered with an impish grin. No need to mention the rest, she reminded herself. Leia raised an eyebrow at Ana’s almost overly amused tone. Ana chose to interpret the look as skepticism over Reem’s request…and not as one questioning if she was leaving something out. “Yeah, he misses me. Apparently the guys he brought on to replace me aren’t worth two faulty converters.” It was what he said last time, so it was probably still true.

“Is that so,” Leia said with casual interest, leaning against the edge of the console. She knew, Ana realized bitterly. “Nothing else? Nothing a little more sensitive?”

“I think you know that answer already,” Ana said softly, her bitterness seeping into her voice, her chipper mood faltering at once. Leia’s expression turned sympathetic but she said nothing more, no matter how much Ana suspected she wanted to. And for that, Ana was grateful. If she had wanted to subject herself to people trying to force her to dwell on her past, she would’ve stayed with Reem, after all.

Ana had been a fighter pilot with the Resistance for over a year and a half now, nearly two, and a mechanic for them for a couple years before that. It was before that when she’d been part of Bek Reem’s crew, serving as a mechanic and periodically as the pilot on his old freighter. She’d helped keep his ship running and it was with him that she’d learned the ins and outs of the Galaxy’s underworld. That being said, he’d still managed to keep her out of trouble…mostly. As an old friend of her mother’s, and one of the few who knew who Ana really was, he had already been fond of her and rather protective even before her life had been torn apart. Because of that, he’d taken her under his wing without hesitation when she’d needed an outlet and a purpose to distract her from the shadows of her past. He’d given her a change of pace when jaunting around on the _Falcon_ hadn’t been enough anymore. When she’d needed yet more distance from the source of her pain.

But he’d also ascribed to the philosophy that Ana should face her demons, and face her losses. As time passed and she’d grown more comfortable on his ship? The reminders had become more frequent. With increasing regularity, he would bring up stories of her mother… and stories of—

To put it plainly, that wasn’t Ana’s philosophy, so naturally the time had eventually come where Ana had had enough.

And when she’d begun to make noises about leaving his ship, he’d been the one to steer her back to the Resistance instead of simply allowing her to run off. Aimless as she had been then and eager to find a way to forget, Ana hadn’t objected. Not to mention the temptation the Resistance offered to work on and even possibly fly the T-70 X-Wings was something she hadn’t been quite able to resist. She had known most of her life that Reem’s ties to the Resistance ran deep as a veteran of the Rebel Alliance, having run supplies and arms for them as well as providing intelligence from the Galaxy’s underbelly. And, as he had been keen to share almost since the day she’d met the old Gran, he liked to take credit not only for bringing Athara to the Rebellion, but also for introducing Ana’s parents. The day he’d dropped her off at the Resistance Base, she’d been expecting and dreading for him to launch into the story yet again.

But when she had looked to him, narrow-eyed and suspicious and asked why he wasn’t trying to share that story or even one of any number of others her had about her mom? He’d shrugged, laying a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“A peace offering,” he’d explained gruffly. “I still want you to like me, after all. I’m planning on trying to convince you to come back.” She hadn’t been able to help but laugh at the comment. Neither had she been able to hold back the inevitable hopeful question that had come next.

“So you’re going to leave her be?” He’d known exactly what she’d meant. His heavy sigh had been answer enough.

“You know I won’t,” he’d admitted softly, far more sensitive and circumspect than Ana was sure she’d ever seen him, “because you know and I know that you’re trying to forget. So I’m going to keep sharing stories about them until you realize it’s better to remember.” Though her jaw had clenched and her shoulders had tensed beneath his six-fingered grip, her eyes had also chosen that moment to prickle. And she hadn’t quite been able to be angry with him.

Even now, as much as he tried her patience with his insistence of bringing up her mom every time he saw her? As much as she still grumbled about him chasing her from his ship? She really was grateful. And she was grateful that, when he’d recognized that he’d pushed her too far, he’d steered her back to the Resistance. She loved flying snub-fighters and, even as ideologically indifferent as she had been when she started out, she was proud of how high she had climbed within the Resistance hierarchy. In the Corps she had finally found a measure of satisfaction, a calling almost, especially when she was ultimately given command of her squadron.

It was also because of her time with Reem and her prior relationship with him that Ana was one of the main Resistance members sent out to rendezvous with him on supply runs, having done so nearly from the beginning of her own involvement. In addition to working her way up to being recognized as one of the top mechanics in the Resistance, she’d been essentially given the Captaincy of the _Amaran_ _Flame_ —one of the Resistance’s primary cargo vessels and one of its few larger ships—once her experience gained with Reem had come to light. Even now, having quickly worked her way up through the ranks of the Starfighter Corps to become Red Leader, when she wasn’t flying missions in an X-wing or still plying her skills as a fighter mechanic, she was often flying supply missions in the _Flame_. Everyone pulled double, even triple duty in the Resistance, and Ana was no exception.

Besides, annoyed as she got with the old Gran each and every time she saw him, she couldn’t bring herself to pass up on the opportunity either, even if the cost of those reunions was a steep one: getting put through an emotional wringer.

It was a cost her aunt was well aware of.

But, as much as she might like to probe deeper into Ana’s emotional state following Reem’s renewed efforts, Leia always managed to keep the impulse to herself. This time was mercifully no exception. So Leia let the matter go, turning their conversation back to Reem’s routine attempt to get Ana to rejoin his crew. Not that she was quite able to hide the concern in her eyes.

“And your response to his offer?”

“When he swaps that hulking monster of his for a snub-fighter, I’ll consider it.” Leia chuckled at the glib response, patting Ana lightly on the shoulder before turning away, tactfully ignoring that the response bordered on unconvincing. Ana glanced back at the console screen, her thoughts wandering as Leia moved on to other pressing matters.

It was then that the lump of worry that had developed when Ana noticed Poe hadn’t returned grew yet more persistent, forcibly reminding Ana of its existence. She thought about it for a moment, weighing whether or not to confront General Organa before she jumped up to follow her Aunt, leaving N3 to finish up with Reem’s data packet. She couldn’t quite fight the sense that something was wrong and it was making her irritable.

“General?” Leia turned back at the sound of Ana’s voice, giving her a sedate smile as the young pilot approached.

“What is it, Commander?” she asked, the faint detachment in her voice telling Ana her thoughts were already preoccupied.

“Has there been any word from Commander Dameron?” Leia fixed Ana with a shrewd glance at the question. Ana tried not to react to the searching look. The extent of her relationship or whatever it was with Poe beyond their obvious friendship was not common knowledge and not something she liked advertising. But she was pretty sure Leia suspected it had become something beyond mere friendship. After a moment of thoughtful scrutiny, Leia shook her head, a faint trace of concern showing on her face for a brief instant. Ana didn’t miss it, the unease she was fighting herself deepening in response.

“No, Not yet. Why do you ask, Commander?” The General tried to sound unconcerned. Again Ana saw through it. Leia was definitely worried. She’d been distant for days, now, weeks even, and Ana hadn’t been able to pinpoint why. Only now something was truly bothering her. And it had something to do with Poe and his secret mission.

“Oh, it’s nothing, General,” Ana answered, similarly trying to sound unconcerned. Leia again leveled her niece with a searching look. Ana sighed unhappily; she knew that look. She also knew it was better to just say whatever Leia knew she was holding back.

“It’s a bad feeling, I suppose.” Leia’s eyes sharpened and she took a step closer to Ana, watching her intently. Ana nearly drew back.

“A feeling or a _feeling_ ,” the General asked softly, her tone just as intent as her gaze. Ana fought back a scowl at Leia’s obvious insinuation, frowning at her Aunt instead.

“It’s just a regular old feeling, Aunt Leia,” Ana responded just as quietly, not bothering to mask her irritation at the question, “I don’t get _feelings_. He should have been back by now and being late is unlike him. That’s all.” Leia continued to study Ana with concern, but after a moment she backed down, sighing herself. Leia knew, just as Ana did, to pick her battles. When it came to the Force, Ana was far more stubborn than even Leia could be.

“You are right. He has been gone too long,” she admitted. “More than that he missed his scheduled check-in. But we’ve had no word on him and that could be equally good as bad. We have to be patient. We’ll hear something soon. One of our contacts on Jakku is looking into it,” Leia said firmly. Ana nodded, fighting back the nagging worry that her Aunt obviously shared despite her affected assurance. The General was right. There was no need to worry just yet.

Returning to N3’s side just in time to see him finishing with the upload she initiated, she laid a hand on his dome, fingers tapping absently as she thought over her Aunt’s reaction. She just couldn’t help being concerned. Poe was almost obsessively intent on missions, especially on missions as important as this one suddenly seemed to be.

That he hadn’t at the very least checked in with Command set off warning bells for Ana. She couldn’t manage to ignore the sense that something had gone wrong. But, shaking her head, she pushed it from her thoughts. There were any number of reasonable explanations for Poe being late to return from his mission. She resolved to put it from her mind until there was actual news.

She was probably just overreacting anyway. Yes, that was it.

Instead she made her way back up to her fighter, intent on spending some quality time with the red-striped X-wing; the primary stabilizer was acting up again and she had been wanting to take a closer look at it for days. Well, having wrapped up this latest mission, she had some time to herself now.

As she reached her fighter, she absently waved to the tech running a diagnostic on the subspace communications array on the nose before shucking off her burgundy leather jacket with its twin tawny stripes down the right breast panel, leaving her in only a thin, high-necked top. With the ease of long practice, she pulled on her old mechanic’s jumpsuit before snatching up her kit. Darting up the fighter’s ladder she was soon diving into the stabilizer panel. Within minutes her sleeves were rolled up and her hands quickly accumulated a familiar layer of grime and grease. It was soothing to be working with her hands again. It was a family trait, apparently.

Years ago, when her Grandmother Padme had still been alive, she’d told stories about how Ana’s Grandfather and namesake, Anakin, had loved fixing things. It had come as naturally to him as breathing, as naturally as flying, her Grandmother had said. He’d always seemed so at peace when he was at work tuning up an thruster ignition modulator or taking apart, reassembling and upgrading a malfunctioning generator unit, the older woman had often recalled with an indulgent grin, looking down at Ana with her warm, dark gaze. It was something Ana had definitely inherited.

For as long as she could remember, she’d always had an innate understanding of all things mechanical, just as her Grandfather had apparently possessed; a familial trait, really, but Ana preferred to think she’d gotten it from her Grandfather as opposed to the other likely source. It was familiar and comforting to be able to take something broken and tinker and fiddle until it worked. It was therapeutic and helped calm Ana’s often crowded and conflicting thoughts, helping her bury away things she didn’t like to think on.

So Ana repaired away her concern over Poe, using her adjustments and recalibration as a way to let her mind go blank save for what she needed to do to get the stabilizer tuned up to her satisfaction.

The task didn’t take as long as she might have hoped, but by the time she had it back in its housing, once again performing to her personal high standards, she was no longer quite so edgy as she had been when she climbed up the ladder. With a satisfied final look, she descended from the fighter’s back, beginning to think fondly of a round in the ‘fresher as she scrubbed away most of the grime clinging to her fingers at the mechanic’s station in her fighter’s hangar. As much as she loved messing around with anything mechanical and didn’t mind having grease and dirt under her nails, she was less keen on getting said dirt and grease on anything else where it didn’t belong. It was a trait she’d inherited from her mother, though arguably the fastidiousness had been learned as opposed to hereditary.

Having dried off her hands, wiping away the last abrasive traces of the de-greasing cleanser, she made short work of stepping out of her grey jumpsuit. Laying it aside, she snatched up her jacket again, still a little too warm to consider putting it back on just yet. In moments, she was back underground, weaving her way through the Command Centre deeper into the Base.

“It was a _feeling_ , wasn’t it?” Ana spun at the sound of her Aunt’s voice. Leia’s usually warm brown eyes were guarded and wary. Ana fought back a hard swallow, her unease returning in full force.

“What have we heard?” Somehow her voice was steady. But at that particular look on Leia’s face she suddenly felt like she was on the verge of being sick. Leia studied her for a moment before answering.

“The data packet you brought back from Reem held intelligence that the First Order has mobilized to execute a discreet raid on Jakku, likely for the same reason that I sent Commander Dameron on a mission there myself.” Ana frowned as she thought over the report; her Aunt had conveniently left out just what that reason was. This sudden secrecy was beginning to bother Ana. Usually Leia just told Ana when she couldn’t know something. Right now, her Aunt Leia was being purposefully secretive. It made Ana even more uneasy.

“So the Commander’s on Jakku?” Leia nodded in response to Ana’s question before answering, though Ana didn’t miss the anxious way she hesitated.

“We’ve also just gotten word from our contacts that the First Order has carried out that very raid already. The whole village was wiped out.” Ana felt cold, a memory she very much didn’t want to think on ringing in her ears, a heavy, aching pulse pressing beneath her breastbone. She angrily shoved the memory aside.

“And Po—Commander Dameron?” Leia didn’t miss Ana’s slip, but she didn’t comment.

“No official word. The rumor is that he may have been captured in the raid. At the very least, they know he was there. We’re waiting on our contact on Jakku to update us further on the situation. What we do know is that BB-8 is unaccounted for. At the very least, we need to try and recover him and hopefully Poe as well. I’d like you to take one of the available troop transports and look into the situation on the ground. Bring one of the other pilots with you. I believe Lieutenants Bastian or Lek are available.” A sudden, sick feeling bloomed in her gut, and before Ana could stop it, the question that sprang to her tongue had escaped past her lips.

“The raid; it was led by Kylo Ren, wasn’t it.” It was little more than a whisper, and not really a true question. Ana glanced up at her Aunt. Leia’s face was blank, expressionless. It told Ana everything she needed to know.

She shuddered as a wash of fear ran through her.

Perhaps it had been a _feeling_ after all…

And Ana wasn’t quite sure what felt worse; that she’d had a _feeling_ , or somehow _knowing_ that her cousin had Poe.


	4. Chapter 3

Ana could do little more than stare at her Aunt. A thousand thoughts were racing through her head, most of them ones that she definitely didn’t want to be there. Ideas and fears of what Kylo Ren could be doing to Poe were quickly taking over, drowning out her capacity for rational thought. But before she could even open her mouth to drill her Aunt on what was being done a command tech hurried up to the General.

“Ma’am,” he offered urgently, offering her a data strip before stepping back to allow her a moment to read it over. Ana watched Leia warily, fighting her anxiety as she did so. After a moment Leia’s shoulders loosened, the General letting out a small sigh. Ana found herself letting out the breath she’d been holding in sympathy.

“What is it?” Ana asked impatiently. Leia looked up at her.

“Threepio has heard from our contact on Jakku; it seems the First Order is still after Commander Dameron. It looks like he’s still on the planet.” Ana struggled to withhold her own sigh of relief, but the effort failed miserably. Leia bit back a faint grin. “He managed to escape the First Order, though it sounds like finding a ship to return to Base is going to be a little more difficult.” Ana couldn’t help but snicker, not caring how immature it sounded.

“He needs to be rescued?” Even knowing that the First Order was still after him, it felt like a weight had been lifted, leaving Ana feeling lighter and almost giddy, allowing her dry sense of humor to reemerge. Leia managed to keep from laughing herself, similarly relieved.

“Go pick him up, Commander; try not to enjoy yourself too much.”

“No promises,” Ana said light-heartedly back as she shrugged her jacket on before turning on her heel, eager to get on her way and retrieve her friend. Calling for N3 to follow her, she was almost immediately heading out of the hangar onto the fighter pad. She was pretty sure she’d seen Lieutenant Niv Lek near his own fighter. He was a good one to have in a fight, whether it was in the air or on the ground. Jakku could be a nasty place, Ana’d heard, though she’d never been there herself. It was a poorer, more wretched version of Tatooine, according to Reem, with virtually nothing on it but scavengers and those trying to hide but too down on their luck to hide anywhere else. Lek would be a good one to have at her back. Ana grinned when she caught sight of the Kuati pilot sitting on a stack of crates near his fighter with a datapad in his hand, likely looking over diagnostic readouts of one type or another.

“Lek.” The pilot glanced up as Ana called him, giving a little wave as she approached to indicate he’d heard her.

“Yea, Commander.”

“You’re coming with me. No uniforms.” He nodded amiably before shucking his brown lieutenant’s jacket and standing, following her as she started across the landing pad. He paused only to retrieve his blaster and a spare civilian jacket of his own to replace the wool uniform one he stuffed in one of the lockers in his fighter’s hangar.  

“Where’re we going?” Ana glanced over her shoulder to him at his eager question, her grin reemerging.

“To get Poe. He seems to have gotten himself in a bit of a jam.” Niv Lek chuckled.

“What’s he gone and done now?” he asked, his core-world accent thickening a bit with his amusement. Ana allowed herself to chuckle back, preferring the light-heartedness over the abject dread from minutes before.

“He’s gone and gotten himself stranded on Jakku, apparently. Though why he’s stranded is beyond me. I was the last one to work on the fighter he took. I just got that one running again; he better not have crashed it,” she said, allowing herself to joke a little once she got the cursory explanation out of the way. Lek laughed heartily, shaking his head. Ana smiled. She liked working with Lek; he was far more laid-back than some of the other pilots and was easy to banter with. Bastian, for instance, sometimes took himself too seriously.

“For his sake, I hope he hasn’t. You’re scary when someone hurts one of your fighters,” Lek joked back, easily avoiding the hand she swung out to smack him for teasing her. She shook her head with exasperation.

“I’m not that bad,” she said back with a trace of petulance. He merely chuckled.

It took a few minutes to traverse the Base to get to where the troop transports berthed when not in use. Yet, for all that that Ana loved flying, she hated piloting the Resistance’s Troop Transports. But as she and Lek reached the transport branch of the Base’s landing pads, she understood why the General had told her take one of the clunky transports.

There weren’t any other ships to take…

The Resistance’s collection of starships was really rather sparse. The _Amaran_ _Flame_ , a CR90 Corvette, was easily the largest currently on D’Qar but it was used almost solely as a cargo vessel despite its smuggling roots and subsequent defensive and offensive upgrades. They had next to no capital ships or frigates, with the _Raddus_ the largest and only cruiser they had, and they were always in high demand. Most of their ships were starfighters, though they also had a few small freighters, a couple of shuttles and a handful of gunships. Leia had been trying for years to get her hands on the repurposed Rebellion ships that the Republic was contemplating retiring from their fleet, but so far she’d had little luck. Most of what the Resistance had in the way of ships, especially the fighters, came from senators and other highly placed patrons who sympathized with the former Senator and Alderaanian Princess.

Then there were the Troop Transports. Cobbled together from obsolete and grounded Rebellion-era and even the odd Republic and Imperial ships, the awkward looking transports were a brute to fly and atrocious to keep running.

And Ana hated them. She hated helping to put them together and she hated helping to keep them running, though she had to admit it was an almost welcome challenge on days when she was in particular need of distraction.

More than anything else, though, she hated flying the bloody things.

Almost as soon as she, Lek and N3 stepped onto the transport pad, a flight tech was waving them over to one of the three available transports. Ana exhaled in relief when she saw which one she was authorized to take. It was one of the better ones, with engines and a hyperdrive that Ana herself worked on, as well as a secondary complement of blasters below the cockpit in addition to the standard heavy laser cannons that all the piecemeal ships possessed. She couldn’t help but smirk.

It was also one of the couple such transports she’d done a little unauthorized tinkering on it, upgrading a few systems that she’d thought were lacking without bothering to look for official authorization. It had taken some convincing to get her Aunt to look the other way for that bit of insubordination. When considering that, Ana couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been assigned this one on purpose or by accident.

The General had already obviously informed Flight Control and the ground crews of Ana’s impending departure since almost as soon as she reached the ship and was handed her mission packet, she was informed that not only was it fired up and ready for takeoff, but that she already had clearance to leave.

Nodding her thanks instead of yelling over the grumble of the engines, she gestured Lek and N3 onboard, before following herself, hitting the control to seal the boarding hatch a little harder than necessary…and promptly shot a warning glare at Lek when he had the audacity to snicker. But at least that was all he’d done.

Poe would’ve made some sort of snarky comment about her having to fix the bloody thing if she broke it…

As Lek settled in front of the communications and sensor station, the green and silver droid didn’t even hesitate to plug in to monitor the ship’s systems and help coordinate the two engines; N3 was an old hand at helping run the improvised transports, having helped to develop the astromech protocol and interface necessary to keep the two engines running properly himself. Smiling as he warbled off a general system report when she poked her head around to the droid’s niche, Ana spared the droid a fond pat before ducking into the cramped cockpit.

And promptly couldn’t restrain a disparaging groan.

Originally part of an old Alliance Mark II B-wing, it wasn’t so much the space in the cockpit that grated on Ana—that she could live with, given that the X-wing cockpits were, if anything, smaller still—it was that almost the whole starboard side of the cockpit’s viewports were gone, obstructed by the power generators for the deflector shield and life-support systems. Though there were sufficient holo-visual displays to compensate for being virtually blind on her right side, she couldn’t help the feeling of unease that came from being unable to actually see anything out of one half of the ship’s cockpit.

Not to mention they were ungainly to pilot, especially in-atmosphere, and far slower than she liked despite the decent engine pods salvaged from old Republic shuttles. But they sufficed for their purpose, and today, the purpose of one of them was to get Ana and Lek to Jakku…especially since the Resistance’s freighters and other small to mid-sized ships were apparently all off on missions of their own. Ana sighed as the ship complained with a rattling grumble as she brought the repulsorlifts online and set the sublights to cycle on; if only she could take the _Flame_. But the General would never authorize that. The _Flame_ was too valuable a ship given its size. Besides, the red corvette wasn’t exactly the most inconspicuous of ships…and it was currently being prepped for another mission and due to head out in the next couple days to the Gordian Reach.

But, as much as she hated it, she was also grudgingly used to it. She was arguably the best at managing the unorthodox ships out of any of the Transport pilots thanks to her involvement in keeping them running and her own innate piloting talents. And really, for all that it took a little muscle, patience and the odd string of curses to make the darn thing do what it was told, she’d never actually had any trouble flying the darn things. She just didn’t like flying them.

As she eased the ship off the duracrete, she couldn’t help but mutter scathingly about missing her fighter…

At least the stolen hyperdrive design meant the blasted thing was decently fast.

It was a thankfully short and uneventful trip to Jakku, and before too long she was dropping the transport back into real-space, conscious from experience to keep an eye on the heat exchanger on the transition to sublights. Thankfully, this time the ship decelerated without any shorts or overheating. Ana let herself relax a little; that would have just been one extra headache she didn’t want to deal with.

As she began steering the transport planet-side, Lek poked his head into the cockpit. As she lowered the ship through the atmosphere, Ana twisted for a moment to glance at the other pilot scuffling in behind her before turning her attention back to the console. She might not have her mother’s infallible Force-heightened senses, but it was still rare than anyone could sneak up on her.

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to stay seated while the ship passes through the outer atmosphere,” she said dryly. It earned a faint chuckle as the Kuati pilot wedged himself against the cockpit bulkhead.

“No sign on sensors of any First Order ships, and I didn’t pick up any of their frequencies. They must have moved on,” he said, momentarily settling into a more professional manner as he relayed the results of his sensor sweep.

“Well that’s a relief,” Ana said with genuine feeling, not expecting to feel quite so relieved at the news, “having the First Order off our backs will make thing easier, that’s for sure.”

“So what’s the plan?” She glanced back at him again for an instant as he asked. She adjusted a few settings and took a moment to correct her course before answering.

“We find Dameron.” She could tell without looking at him that he was giving her a dubious look at her answer. She knew very well that wasn’t what he meant. To be honest, she was still thinking on that part of the mission.

“And how do you propose we do that?” he prodded. Her brow furrowed a little as she thought, leveling out the ship as they approached the planet’s surface, skimming along over the sandy landscape at an almost lazy pace. The mission packet she’d been given before boarding the transport had been a little sparse on detail, but there had been enough to give her some idea of where to start when she’d read it over during the hyperspace jump.

“Our Jakku contact seemed to think Dameron may have ended up in the Goazon Badlands in an escape from First Order custody. We’re not far from there now.” Lek shuffled a little closer to the pilot’s seat, peering over her shoulder to the sensor readings and out through the pathetic viewport to the sandy landscape, obviously thinking over possibilities himself.

“Where’s the nearest settlement,” he asked. Ana peeked over to her sensor readings to find out, N3 having already fed the cockpit with a corresponding map readout of the planet.

“Niima Outpost, by the look of it. It’s probably a good heading to take. Settlements mean water on a desert planet, and I imagine he’d know enough to try to get to one fairly quickly.” Further adjusting her heading, Ana glanced up at Lek. He was still leaning over her shoulder, brow creased as he contemplated the situation. After a moment he glanced down at her.

“He has his BB unit with him, doesn’t he.” Ana’s mind started whirring as soon as he said it.

If she was suddenly thinking what he was thinking, their job might just get a lot easier.


	5. Chapter 4

"He has his BB unit with him, doesn't he," Lek asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer.

Poe rarely went anywhere without BB-8.

"Yeah," Ana replied, her voice beginning to speed up as she followed his logic to where it had obviously taken him. "Yeah, he brought BB-8 with him. The mission packet said the First Order was looking for him too." He smirked as she confirmed his thought. Yup. She was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking. She started unbuckling her restraints even as he continued.

"Can you remote-access BB-8's tracking frequency?" She flicked a few switches, stabilizing the ship as she made to move from the pilot's seat, pulling off her headset.

"Maybe, maybe not. It's not supposed to work like that, especially since I don't know if his tracking mode is activated. Here; take the stick," she said, shoving the pilot's headset toward him as she stood from the seat.

"You saying you can't?" he baited playfully as he settled the headset over his ear and adjusted the comm. Only to swear colourfully as a warning wail screeched from the console. With a grumble she leaned back over him to flip the control for the aft converter's regulator. She smirked at Lek's audible sigh of relief, giving him a light smack on the shoulder.

"Pay attention to flying this can, Lieutenant," she chided as she pushed him forward and into the pilot's seat.

"You never answered my question, Commander," Lek taunted over his shoulder despite the look of wary concentration on his face as he righted himself, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he eyed the temperamental ship's controls. She nearly stuck her tongue at him.

"I never said I couldn't," she called back. It took a little jockeying but after a moment he was securely ensconced behind the controls and Ana was heading for the comm station. As soon as she was settled in the station's seat, she was playing with frequencies, calling to N3 to give her a hand. The droid didn't hesitate to help as he was able, but he did caution her by recounting an earlier conversation with the orange orbiculate droid.

After a few moments she was cursing with annoyance as the astrodroid was proven right. Standing again with a huff she went back to the cockpit. Lek looked up at her when she tapped him on the shoulder, indicating she could take over again. As he repeated the same actions Ana had taken to allow him to take over, she explained what she'd found.

"Either his tracking mode has been disabled, or he's not on the planet anymore," she said, taking the headset as he handed it back to her, "and since our contact seemed to think he was still on the planet when he got back to us, it's probably the former. N3 agrees; he's pretty sure he remembers BB-8 telling him his tracking mode was purposefully disabled for his last mission and hadn't been reactivated yet." Lek swore half-heartedly to himself as Ana settled herself back into the pilot's seat.

"Certainly would have made things easier," he muttered, "I don't think the Commander has ever let that little droid out of his sight." Ana couldn't help but agree.

"Best course just now is going to be Niima Outpost; it's not far. We'll take a look around and then go from there. If we have to, we'll run a search pattern over the desert between here and the crash site." Lek's answer was a grunt of agreement. He didn't return to the passenger compartment, though, keeping his eyes peeled as they skimmed the undulating dunes. As they drew closer to the Outpost, he was suddenly shifting, pointing out ahead of them.

"Is that what I think it is," he asked soberly. It took Ana only a second to see what he'd spotted. Her stomach churned at the sight, her mouth going dry.

There were several plumes of smoke appearing to rise from beyond the quickly approaching ridge that sheltered Niima Outpost. Ana's heart sunk as they cleared the ridge, the settlement coming into view.

"Smarmy sprog of a mynock, is there anything they didn't blast to bits?" Ana couldn't help but silently agree with Lek's assessment. Niima Outpost could barely be called that anymore. Since receiving word from their Jakku contact, it appeared the already meager outpost had been targeted and summarily laid to waste, the plumes of smoke they'd spotted originating from the carcasses of small ships and a few burning structures. There were great gouges and scars all over the ground from strafing blaster fire and copious amounts of debris littered the sand. Ana's hand clenched on the controls, her knuckles beginning to ache.

"What do you think? First Order?" Lek mused distractedly. Ana nodded, just as caught up in peering over the remnants of the outpost as she brought the transport around.

"Most likely," she said sedately, "but hard to say for sure. I can't think of anyone else who'd want to do this, though." There was little doubt to her that it had been an airborne assault given the level and scope of the damage. There were survivors, though. That was a small relief.

As Ana maneuvered the transport to land on the edges of the mostly destroyed outpost, she and Lek both could see its inhabitants beginning to clean up and salvage what they could. Ana had to grant that, no matter how unsavory the reputation of these sorts of places, the people who tended to inhabit them were undoubtedly resourceful and determined. Powering down the primary engines, Ana took a moment to collect her thoughts before popping out of the pilot's seat, practically shoving Lek out toward the main passenger compartment ahead of her when he couldn't seem to stop peering out the viewport at the wreckage.

"Get going," she nearly scolded him, "you can get a better look once we're outside." He made a face at her as he shrugged off her shooing gesture. After motioning for N3 to stay behind to guard the ship in case they needed to make a quick getaway, Ana hit the control panel to open the boarding ramp. Beside her, Lek was wisely giving his blaster a final check before returning it to his holster. Ana's hand instinctively brushed over her own blaster, flicking the holster guard open just in case.

"You really think he's going to be out there? This place looks like a war zone," Lek said over the groaning of the ramp mechanisms. Ana spared him a glance before shrugging and striding out into the blinding sun, squinting as she surveyed the outpost ahead of her. She held back a disheartened expression; she wasn't fond of desert planets. But at least this one wasn't known for blazing heat the way Tatooine was; it was almost pleasant, actually, if overly dry. Not comfortable by any means, but still far more pleasant than she'd anticipated. She started briskly toward the ruins of the outpost.

"You have somewhere better in mind to start looking?" she tossed back to Lek, glancing around as she heard his footsteps thumping down the ramp after her. She nearly smiled as his grumbling response. She paused, letting him catch up before speaking again.

"It's the most logical place to start. It's one of the biggest—or at least it was—settlements in the area. It's the closest outpost to the coordinates our contact provided where he may have ended up. It's got water. It's got ships coming in and out fairly regularly. Really, it would be his best bet for trying to make his way off Jakku. Because, honestly, who in their right mind would want to stay?" Lek peered over at her, his eyes squinted so tight against the sun they almost looked shut. After a moment he shrugged, looking over at the smoking remnants of what may once have been a quadjumper.

"I certainly wouldn't," he said with disparagement. Ana bit back a snicker at his expression as they started walking again.

"What, never been to a desert planet before, Lek?" she asked. He huffed, perturbed by her teasing tone.

"Unlike you? I'm from Kuat, Adyé. Don't think I even went out beyond the Colonies until I joined the Resistance. Ships, cities and asteroid fields? Those I know. Seedy dives and shipyards? I'm right at home. Desert planets?" he scoffed in answer to his own question. "Tried to avoid them, honestly." Ana chuckled, hopping lightly over a deep gouge in the ground, the heat from the blaster that created it leaving glittering streaks of superheated sediment in the blackened sand. "Which makes you the expert of the two of us," he concluded, stepping over the gouge after her. Ana nearly grimaced; he really had no idea. "So where do we start?"

Ana gestured toward a cluster of makeshift buildings near the centre of the outpost, some of which surprisingly seemed to have survived the assault mostly intact.

"Where business is done; the Marketplace," she said simply, "there's bound to be someone there who has a good bead on newcomers. A place like this? Newcomers are noticed quickly, especially since they're a chance at business." Lek thought over what she said before glancing questioningly at her. She bit back an exasperated sigh. "Just follow my lead, Lek; I know what I'm doing."

"Been in many places like this, have you?" She shrugged as they began picking their way through the rubble that looked like it had once been the entrance to the outpost, though to Ana it didn't look like the result of blasterfire, but rather something crashing through it and scattering the wreckage behind: not enough charring.

"A couple." She didn't miss the skeptical look on his face at her evasion, the expression making her a tad defensive. "I used to run on a smuggler's ship before I joined the Resistance, Lek. I thought everyone knew that?"

"You play everything pretty close to the chest, Adyé; no one really knows what you did before," he pointed out. Ana forced a terse grin to her face but said nothing; she did prefer it that way, after all. And given his skeptical expression? Lek was well aware of that fact. But then something clicked into place and he stopped in his tracks, looking nearly disoriented as he stared at her. "Wait, you mean the rumours that you ran with Reem are true?"

"More or less," she hedged, pausing to glance back at him with a far more genuine smirk; his reaction was rather entertaining. "And since you recognize the name, it means you know Reem is a smuggler among a whole list of other things…which I imagine you know given the way you're looking at me," she added dryly and mostly to herself, trying not to snigger at his bewilderment. The astonished expression didn't fade as Lek looked over to her again before a wide grin broke out over his face.

"I told Asty that it wasn't such a ridiculous rumour," he nearly crowed, "you just won me ten credits." Ana sighed dramatically, shaking her head at him as she bit back a grin; why wasn't she surprised that there was a pool out among the Corps pilots about her… A little part of her was even tempted to brag about the other, far more infamous smuggler she'd run with for a short time, knowing that would really blow Lek's mind. But advertising that she'd flown with her Uncle would inevitably come back to the family thing. She kept her history to herself for a reason, after all.

"Alright, alright! I get it, you had me pegged," she scolded half-heartedly, "though you'd think it'd be clue enough that it's usually me Command sends for his pick ups. If you know of him, you know he's intimidating, and doesn't like working with people he doesn't know." She shot him an exasperated look when Lek made a noise to interrupt, cutting him off before he could say whatever teasing thing he'd been planning. "The point is, if I hadn't joined the Resistance when I did, I'd have probably been the Captain of my own ship by now, so I actually do know what I'm doing." Okay, not the whole truth; having roots on a similar desert planet and having close relatives with less than pristine histories who were well-versed in the ins and outs of less well-travelled parts of the Galaxy helped too. But her explanation seemed to satisfy Lek.

Despite having cleared the rubble that somewhat blocked off entry to the outpost, they were still scrambling over debris as they made their way toward the mass of tent-like structures that she imagined was the central hub of the settlement. Ana kept her eyes peeled. Most of the remaining inhabitants seemed to be pointedly ignoring her and Lek, intent on their business of salvaging what they could from the wreckage. Some even seemed to be going out of their way to do it. Ana frowned as another denizen deliberately turned away from the pair of Resistance pilots. They seemed awfully wary of strangers. Though, she supposed that made sense given the current state of the outpost.

"So why aren't you?" She turned to Lek, her frown deepening at the question.

"Aren't what?"

"The Captain of your own ship. Why'd you join up with us?" he asked. Ana made an involuntary noise of understanding as he clarified his question. She made an absent gesture as she skirted around the still smoldering remnants of what looked like a welder droid. This was why she hated giving out even little details about her life…they always led to more questions.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she shrugged, her mind whirring to come up with a satisfying answer that wasn't wholly made up but didn't give too much away, either. Lek wasn't one to give up, easily. "Better than starting from scratch on my own ship. I've always been a decent mechanic so after I joined I had a good thing going, especially once everyone realized I knew my stuff and left me alone to do my own thing. And I've always loved flying—there was no way I was joining the Republic Fighter Corps; too many hoops to jump through," the first one being her legal name… "so the chance that I could possibly join the Resistance Corps and fly an X-wing by becoming a mechanic first was a pretty tempting opportunity." Lek nodded absently, processing her explanation. She nearly breathed out a sigh of relief when he accepted it and moved onto the inevitable next question.

"Do you regret it? Not having your own ship?" he clarified. Huh. Not the question she'd expected. She held back a sigh of relief. No need to try her luck. She shook her head, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he paused to run an appreciative eye over a surprisingly intact custom speeder, one that Ana had to admire with an equally approving glance. Whoever had put it together knew what they were doing…were those X-wing repulsorlifts? The Kuati pilot took a moment to make an investigative circuit around the faded orange marvel before he caught up with her. She actually had to shake her head to pull her thoughts away from the clever swoop/speeder amalgam.

"Maybe a little," she admitted honestly, "but I'm essentially the  _Flame_ 's Captain now, and I'm a Commander on top of it, so I suppose you could say I didn't really miss out in that respect, and I love flying snub-fighters," she turned to him, a cheeky grin on her face, "even though it means I'm stuck with you lot." Lek laughed. Ana nearly started laughing with him, but the sounds of a scuffle quickly caught her attention. Lek hadn't noticed, and had started responding to her banter.

"Yeah, I suppose you'v—" Her hand flashed up, gesturing for him to stop talking, and she was vaguely pleased that he heeded her so quickly. In an instant he straightened, obviously hearing what she did. Exchanging a curious glance they skirted a set of collapsing structures, heading toward the sound of someone berating what they proclaimed to be a would-be thief. As they rounded the mess of smoldering fabric and supports, Ana couldn't help but groan in exasperation as she and Lek stopped in their tracks.

The growling, angry voice was coming from what looked to Ana like a old Crolute, complete with saggy, blob-like pink skin, though it was hard to know for sure since he had his back to her and Lek. In front of him, two black-clad figures, likely low-level hired thugs to Ana's eyes, were trying to subdue the thief their boss was currently bellowing at. Ana tilted her head toward Lek as they both observed the scene before them, neither looking away from the familiar dashing Resistance pilot currently scuffling with the two henchmen.

"And you thought Dameron would be hard to find," she said dryly. Lek groaned, looking on the verge of smacking his palm over his face.


	6. Chapter 5

Ana couldn't resist shooting Lek a smug grin. "Good thing for you we didn't place bets on how long it would take to track him down. I'm pretty sure I would have won it," she said sardonically. Lek only grunted unhappily in acknowledgement, still watching as the two Jakku thugs managed to mostly subdue Poe, each grabbing firm hold of an arm.

With a heavy sigh Ana started forward, her fellow pilot close behind. Poe seemed to be only half paying attention to threats and ravings of the blob-like junk boss, instead struggling against the two black-bundled lackeys. He almost succeeded in throwing them off too, only for one of them to reward the effort with a hard knee to the stomach, sending him crashing into the sand. Ana couldn't help but wince in sympathy, while Lek let out a similarly commiserating hiss. As they approached, one of the thugs landed an awkward kick to Poe's ribs.

Ana let out a pointedly loud, disapproving sound that almost instantly had the Junk Boss twisting around to face her. "Little harsh, that. Don't you think?"

The Crolute all but snarled at her light tone. Beyond him, Poe's head snapped around at the sound of Ana's voice, his trademark charming grin appearing on his face as he struggled upright. Pointedly ignoring the Crolute, she leaned to the side to better see Poe behind the alien's bulk.

"Alright, Dameron. What did you do this time," she asked patronizingly. He shot her a look of affected astonishment, his face saying 'what, me?' His eyes twinkled roguishly, though. Ana fought her grin.

"I just tried to borrow a ship," he said back, trying to stand before one of the thugs shoved him unceremoniously back to his knees, earning a pained wince.

Ana stared at him, her eyebrow quirked. "Borrow?" she asked.

Poe smirked at her dry tone. "Alright, fine. It was meant to be an involuntary donation on their part," he admitted. Ana sighed dramatically, glancing to the Junkyard Boss with mock commiseration. She couldn't help the flash of amusement as his globular face twisted up further with offended fury.

"Do you know who I am, girl," he grated out. Ana brazenly shook her head no before turning back to Poe. Behind her, Lek had taken up an appropriately intimidating stance, his hand hovering over his blaster. She could tell he was trying hard not to laugh himself.

"Poe, how many times do I have to tell you that stealing other people's ships is going to get you shot—err, beaten…" Poe tried to stand again as she spoke, but a black-clad hand clamped down on his shoulder, keeping him down.

"This is the first time, actually…wait…yup, first time. You've never told me that before. Usually I'm the one telling you that," he countered with rather more show than strictly necessary. Ana grinned impishly.

"And evidently I'm much better at it than you since I've never gotten caught," she fired back. Poe tried scowling at her in response, but the attempt failed as his own insolent grin spoiled the effect. The Junk Boss took a heavy step forward, drawing Ana's attention back to him, obviously trying to intimidate her.

"This is none of your concern, off-worlder," he snarled, "so I suggest you leave me to my business." Ana pointedly ran a contemptuous glance over first him then their surroundings, deliberately misinterpreting. Boy, had her uncle been a bad influence…

"Business? If that's what you're trying to do, you might want to tidy the place up a bit, 'cause I can't imagine anyone wanting to do business here," she said acerbically, knowing full well it would further rile up the Crolute. Yup. Han had definitely been a bad influence. At his side, the Junk Boss' thick fingers fisted and his small eyes flicked away from Ana for a split-second. A faint whisper of warning brushed across the back of her neck.

In an instant her blaster was in her hand and aimed at the pink, gelatinous-looking alien, her suddenly serious gaze fixed firmly on him as she gestured sharply to Lek. Thankfully understanding her warning, Lek spun just as a third black-wrapped thug tried to jump him, easily bringing down the hired muscle without even bothering to pull his own weapon. The Crolute flinched instinctively at her drawn blaster before recovering, his lipless mouth curling further in outrage.

"I am Unkar Plutt and this is my operation. You would do well to show a little respect, off-worlder," he snarled out, pointing a meaty finger threateningly at Ana. This time it was a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision that tipped her off. Before he got anywhere close Ana's blaster swung around, a single shot shrieking out to catch the fourth thug square in the shoulder without even dropping Plutt's furious gaze. She could have sworn the Crolute paled as she smoothly brought her blaster back to him, not bothering to hide the annoyance from her face. Behind the Junk Boss, Poe whistled lowly.

"Nice shot, Adyé," he said brightly, earning himself another wallop from one of the thugs holding him, "alright, easy. I get it; shut up." Ana didn't spare him a glance, no matter that a grin tried to tug at the corner of her mouth. Instead she kept her eyes fixed firmly on Plutt, who seemed to be almost inflating with indignation and rage.

"I would think twice before I did that again," she said to him, her voice pointedly low and irritated. Plutt hesitated, his wide-set eyes narrowing as he looked at her, gaze flicking down to the muzzle of her blaster. "I'd also ask that you let him go," she jerked her head toward Poe, who was still being held by two of the Crolute's thugs. Glancing resentfully back at his hired muscle, Plutt waved a meaty hand at them and the two black-wrapped beings let Poe drop. The Commander hissed as he pitched forward, landing hard on the packed sand. Lek took a step forward, his own expression threatening in concert with Ana's. The thugs nervously backed off further. Ana gave Plutt a tight smile, gesturing with her blaster for him to move along.

"Thanks, Plutt," she said genially as he scuttled begrudgingly to the side, "pleasure doing business with you." With a final, loathing sneer he stalked off, his thugs falling into step behind him. Beside her Lek had turned his attention to Poe, helping the obviously battered Commander back to his feet with a proffered hand. Ana watched warily as the Crolute Junk Boss lurked back toward the central structure of the outpost's market, not entirely trusting him to keep moving and leave them without attempting some sort of reprisal.

"Asty definitely has to pay up, now," Lek piped up with wry admiration once she was satisfied enough to holster her blaster. "I don't think anyone could doubt you were a smuggler. You're certainly intimidating enough when you want to be. And not to shabby with a blaster either." Ana's mouth curled in a pleased grin as she turned to survey the two men behind her. Poe glanced for a moment to Lek before fixing Ana with an approving but curious expression.

"A smuggler?"

Ana shrugged, her delighted grin turning to a challenging smirk. "I was one, you know," she hesitated, "err, sort of." Poe nearly scoffed, opening his mouth to voice the comment that went with the knowing glint that had appeared in his eye. But he reconsidered as she lifted a daring eyebrow at him. Poe and Lek exchanged a wary but amused look before he conceded.

"Okay, I'd buy it," he ceded quickly, his dark eyes laughing all the same as he played along. But he kept his prior knowledge of that side of her past to himself…not that it stopped him teasing her. Ana chuckled before running a measuring look over the battered Commander, her brows furrowing together as she took stock of his condition. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what he had to have gone through to look as bad as he did. The resulting exclamation was out of her mouth before she could stop it, her genuine concern hidden as always behind playful banter.

"Double suns, Dameron, you look awful!" Poe smiled wanly around a wince as he started to take a step forward, only to sway precariously. Rushing forward before he lost his balance completely, Ana and Lek each grabbed an arm, keeping him from toppling over again.

"Good to see you too, Adyé," he said brightly despite looking like he was on the verge of collapsing. Exchanging a look, Lek and Ana didn't need to say a word as they started shuffling the Commander toward a nearby stack of crating, helping to ease him into the makeshift seat.

Once they had managed to get him settled, Poe couldn't help but shoot Ana a critical look.

"Double suns? Really? Where are you from, Tatooine?" Ana restrained her snap response. She had barely realized precisely which exclamation had slipped out. She certainly hadn't used that one in a while; it had been a long time since…well, no matter. She was  _not_  going to think on that now. He had no idea where she picked up that expression and she wasn't about to tell him. He probably wouldn't believe her if she did anyway. Though if he did believe her…Ana pushed the thought aside as well. Instead she lifted a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"Trying to hold off explaining why we had to come rescue you, Dameron?" she asked wryly, easily shifting the attention back onto him. He scowled half-heartedly at her, playing at being affronted by the thought of needing to be rescued; just the reaction she predicted.

"I was doing just fine on my own, Adyé. I was just about to get off this blasted planet when that walking blobfish and his thugs jumped me." Ana lifted an eyebrow at him. Lek snorted.

"I'm not entirely certain I'd call that 'doing just fine,'" Lek pointed out. Poe shrugged, a shadow of his charming grin flashing over his features.

"I'd have managed. I always do." His tone was full of his usual bravado, but Ana didn't miss the slight waver that exposed again just how exhausted and worn down he was. She hated to think when he'd last slept.

"Didn't seem like you were managing to steal a ship all that well. What did you do; try to ask first?"

He shot her a scathing look. "Very funny. I'd like to have seen you do better. They are weirdly protective of their ships here," he muttered defensively. She grinned at him.

"Of course I would have done better," she waved off his challenge, "and what did you expect; it looks like most of the ships in this junkyard have been blown to smithereens. Of course they'd be protective of any that survived." He made a face at her.

"Protective of an old Quadjumper? They aren't exactly known for, well, being worth much of anything, Adyé. You do realize most of them don't even have hyperdrives, right? I picked the only one that was worth stealing, since it has a retrofitted one…too bad the blasted thing's repulsorlifts were so pathetically sluggish to cycle on, or I'd have made it off the ground before that Crolute and his thugs even knew I was there." She eyed the rundown little ship in the distance he'd gestured towards; he did have a point. It really didn't look like it was worth protecting or stealing, and its hyperdrive looked even more pathetic. She snickered anyway.

"You realize you just proved my point, right? 'The only one worth stealing,' you said?" she goaded. Poe grumbled under his breath, though his eyes were twinkling again, belying his assumed irritation at her.

"Hey, I needed a ship," he countered, "with my X-wing destroyed—"

"Wait! You lost the X-wing? I just got that one running again!" Ana's eyes were abruptly wide with irate disbelief, her voice jumping both an octave and what was surely several decibels. Lek was suddenly trying very hard not to burst into howls of laughter. Poe gave her an apologetic look. Ana glared at him.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," he offered peevishly. Ana scoffed, ready to push him for a better explanation.

That was the only defense she got though, as at that moment a blaster bolt screeched past her shoulder.


	7. Chapter 6

As the blaster bolt flashed past her, Ana was already instinctively whirling around. Expecting to see Plutt and his thugs, Ana's eyes widened at the sight of a handful of Stormtroopers. Again, her blaster was in her hand in an instant, returning fire almost instinctively. Two troopers went down before she turned back to Poe.

"C'mon, Hotshot. We gotta get going," Ana said as she grabbed Poe's arm even as Lek grabbed his other, both of them nearly yanking him to his feet.

They dashed through the ruins of Niima Outpost, leaping over and skirting around the scattered debris, racing for their Transport as the remaining troopers gave chase, not even bothering to pause and return fire.

Thankfully, their ship was not far away and, even with Poe slowed by his battered condition, they at least weren't hampered by the need to aim their blasters and fire or the layers of armor the Stormtroopers had to run with.

As they ran flat out over the last stretch toward the ship, the engines were already beginning to power up, and Ana was silently thanking N3's attentiveness even when holed up inside the ship. As they reached the boarding ramp, Lek paused just inside the hatch, having ascended it first thanks to his longer, uninjured strides, in order to provide Ana and Poe with some cover fire as they scrambled up the ramp themselves. As soon as they were in he slammed his free hand into the control panel to raise the ramp, already dashing off to the gunner's station even as Ana ordered him to man the weapons systems. With a decisive push, Ana unceremoniously tipped Poe back into the seat at the comm station, earning a disgruntled protest. She turned on him for a split-second, leveling him with a firm look and pointed finger-jab.

"You; sit. Stay," she ordered as she headed for the cockpit. Poe's expression was almost as affronted as his tone as he called after her: "I'm not a pet mooka!" Ana bit back an involuntary smile at the reaction as she dove into the pilot's seat, barely strapping herself in as she hastily ran through the pre-flight check after activating the deflector shields, trying to rush through the last few steps to finish syncing the transport's tandem engines. Faintly, she could hear the sound of the laser cannons powering up and the secondary blasters droning on as the engines roared to life. Moments later, the sound and corresponding vibrations of the transport's secondary blasters opening fire on the Stormtroopers made it to Ana through the fuselage at her feet. With a final grinding rumble, Ana kicked the repulsorlifts in gear, hauling back on the controls to wrestle the reluctant transport into the air before engaging the engines and climbing out of range of the Stormtrooper's blasters.

Not for the first time Ana cursed the transport's sluggish initial flightspeed, especially as Poe's voice came over the comm from where he sat at the sensor console out in the main passenger compartment.

"Might want to get this bucket moving, Adyé; we've got a pair of TIEs coming in." Ana swore as her cockpit readouts similarly picked up the incoming enemy fighters.

"Lek, I thought you said the First Order was gone," she bit out as she wrenched the transport into a defensive maneuver to face the incoming TIEs, trying to buy some time to get the hyperdrive warmed up and allow N3 to finish calculating their jump. Even as he opened fire, Lek was cursing a blue streak. Apparently swearing helped, because one of the TIEs almost immediately disappeared in a billowing fireball, its remnants raining down over the sand.

"There weren't any in the system; none that the sensors picked up when we got here, anyway. They must have been hiding behind one of the moons," Lek bit out, "either that or they came back." He didn't get to say much more though as the second TIE dashed around them, coming up on the Transport's rear quarter. Ana grit her teeth as a swath of blaster fire ricocheted off the deflector shields, causing the ship to shudder. They needed to get out into open space. If she had been in an X-wing, she'd have been set, as the Resistance fighters handled in-atmosphere combat far better than TIE fighters. But the Troop Transports were a nightmare within the atmosphere, and even though its cannons were powerful, they weren't really the most helpful defense unless the enemy was coming straight for them.

That thought was cut short though, as, seemingly out of nowhere, the hulking carcass of an Imperial Star Destroyer rose out of the sand. Her own tirade of curses slipping out, Ana was very nearly unable to pull the Transport up in time, only just managing to keep their ship from grinding along the hull of the wrecked colossus. A grating shudder ran through the ship as it did manage to glance off a series of rusting communications antennas.

On the plus side, though, the sudden appearance of the wrecked Star Destroyer threw the TIE fighter off as well, the smaller ship peeling off in a different direction than Ana to avoid crashing into the crumbling Imperial ship himself. It was then that Ana saw her chance. Snapping out a warning to her companions, Ana wrenched the Transport around, pushing it to the limits of its maneuvering abilities in order to swing it on its axis to dash after the TIE fighter. It was with no small relief on Ana's part that Lek was paying attention, because almost as soon as she aligned the Transport on the TIE's tail, he was firing, causing the port solar array to splinter off before utterly disintegrating the enemy ship.

Allowing herself a sigh of relief, Ana adjusted a few settings before easing the clunky ship back down to a more reasonable speed and ultimately setting it down in the shadow of a second crashed Imperial wreck so she and N3 could give its systems a quick once over. After pushing the cobbled-together vessel the way she had, Ana wasn't about to take any chances before heading out into open space, especially since where there were TIEs there had to be a First Order Ship. The TIEs they had just finished off were short-range; they needed a bigger ship to get from system to system. Leaning back in the pilot's seat, Ana allowed herself a moment to breathe.

She didn't imagine they had long before more fighters were on them.

"You've been holding out on me, Adyé," came Poe's impressed voice over the comm. Ana scoffed as she straightened, reaching across her console to initiate a systems check on the hyperdrive stabilizers as she did.

"You always underestimate me, Dameron. I wonder that you're still surprised I can surprise you; you should be used to it by now."

"To be honest, for a second there, I thought we might be done for; I didn't think these buckets were could move like that."

"Then it's a good thing I'm piloting, Hotshot," she quipped back even as she breathed a silent sigh of relief as the ship's systems seemed to be no worse for wear after that bit of excitement, though the port deflector shield was fractionally weaker thanks to the hit it sustained. Poe was silent for a moment as his chuckle at her answer died down before asking her a tentative question.

"Hey Adyé, you think you and N3 could manage to reactivate BB-8's tracking mode from here?" Ana's head cocked at the question, suddenly realizing that the little orange droid hadn't been with Poe as she and Lek had expected. Between the Crolute and the Stormtroopers, she'd completely missed the little droid's absence.

"She tried that when we first got here to try and track you down," Lek supplied over the comm, "We couldn't reactivate his tracker remotely." Poe was silent for another moment, only speaking again as a sudden thought hit him.

"He's got a selenium drive; that's not exactly common, especially not out here, right? Think there's any way to track him that way?" Ana thought for a moment before popping out of the pilot's seat, lightly tossing the headset onto the main console as she ducked out of the cockpit.

"It's possible," she conceded, practically elbowing Poe out of the sensor and comm station's seat. It earned her a half-hearted protest, but he surrendered the chair easily enough before sinking into one of the passenger seats, biting back a groan as he did. Ana couldn't help but spare him a concerned look.

"Force, what did you do to yourself, Dameron?" He shot her back a grin; it was less than reassuring.

"Nothing much. Before that Plutt fellow and his goons got a hold of me, the First Order pushed me around a bit; it wasn't so bad. But then, I also crashed a TIE fighter…well, sort of; that part wasn't my fault. It was hit with a seeker missile, I think…then it crashed. That hurt a little." Somehow he managed to smirk at her through the grimace. Ana's jaw dropped in outraged jealousy, her worry almost forgotten. Behind them Lek was stifling his laughter at the expression forming on Ana's face.

"A TIE fighter? No fair!" she complained. Dameron's smirk grew into a wide smile.

"Jealous, Adyé?" he baited. She practically growled at him in response as she forced her attention back to the sensor station, trying to reprogram one of the sensor arrays to pick up the unique frequency discharge a selenium drive would produce. Behind them, N3 trundled out of his niche to settle beside Ana, plugging into the sensor station himself to give her a hand. Once the pair of them got the sensors appropriately set, she unconsciously leaned in to look over the readings, a frown beginning to crease her brow. Poe leaned forward himself, peering as best he could over her shoulder without moving from his seat.

"Well? Got anything?"

Ana shook her head distractedly, still scanning the readouts. "No. I've got nothing." Dameron raised an eyebrow at her, nearly earning himself another growl.

"You couldn't do it?" Lek questioned from behind them, having settled himself on one of the other passenger seats while Ana worked. Ana shot him a scathing look before turning back to the readouts.

"No, there's nothing," she said absently. "If he's on this part of Jakku, which he should be, we should be getting a reading." Poe frowned, a troubled look passing over his face.

"He's too small to have gone far," he objected anxiously, "he has to be in this region!" Ana shrugged in response to his exclamation, leaning back from the console with an exasperated huff.

"I'm telling you Dameron, this distinct lack of readout says he's not."

Poe's brow furrowed as his look of worry deepened. But as he opened his mouth to say something else, N3 began whistling and chattering anxiously, speaking too quickly for Ana to follow. Ana's attention snapped to the squat droid, whose domed head was wheeling between looking to her and back at the sensor console.

"Cool it, N3. I can't follow when you rush!" she chided. Poe's eyes widened as he watched the exchange.

"You can understand him?" Ana spared him a faintly perplexed glance.

"Why the surprise? You understand BB-8," she said, returning her focus to the sensor display, trying to see what had N3 so worked up all of a sudden. Obediently the green droid repeated himself at a far more reasonable speed, though the fact that Poe insisted on speaking as well made it hard to follow him still.

Ana bit back an irritated groan as Poe responded. "Yeah, he speaks Twenty-seventh gen. binary, which is simplified so non-droids can understand it better; old Astros speak what, twenty-sixth? Twenty-fifth?" N3 made a raspberry noise in amusement. Ana grinned at the green droid before looking back to Poe.

"Twenty-fourth, actually, in N3's case. And R2-D2's older still. I think he speaks, what, twenty-second," N3 warbled an amendment, "Sorry, twenty-first. I'm not as good with that one anymore. But they're all pretty similar, really; each generation is more a different accent rather than a different language…except twenty-seventh, which is way easier, especially when you know the others first," she explained distractedly. Poe and Lek both stared at her, the Commander's mouth parted in disbelief. Ana shrugged, ignoring their overblown surprise—at least, it seemed overblown to her—as she listened to N3's renewed chattering about the sensor readings. Honestly, had they never noticed before that she could understand most astrodroids? It was one of the few things about herself that she didn't work to keep to herself. Behind her the two men were trading quiet exclamations of disbelief that she could understand astrodroids before Ana cut them off, standing abruptly.

"Looks like we just ran out of time, gents; unless we want to try outrunning some TIEs again, we need to get out of here before company arrives; N3 picked up the Star Destroyer in orbit. They're probably looking for us." Sobering instantly, Lek was on his feet and heading back to the gunner's seat before Ana even finished speaking.

"Adyé, we can't leave without BB-8," Poe objected as Ana stood hurriedly from the comm station. She spared a glance at him, anxious to be gone.

"We can't stay here, Dameron. We'll have to come back," she argued, "we have no idea where he is and we won't survive long against another batch of TIEs, and certainly not against a Star Destroyer. Not in this thing." He looked supremely unhappy about it, but as Ana headed for the cockpit and N3 sped off back to the droid niche, she could tell that he could grudgingly see her point. In moments they were airborne again, dashing for the atmosphere and the closest hyperspace lane, trying to get out of the system as quickly as possible before the Star Destroyer picked them up.

It looked like they were going to make it too, until their luck ran out. Mere moments before they were set to make the jump to lightspeed, the Transport jerked and shuddered, feeling for a split-second like it was going to shake apart. Out in the passenger compartment N3 started squealing in panic even as Ana's console lit up with alarms. A few choice Huttese curses that she hadn't used in years slipped out before Ana could stop them as she fought to regain control of the ship, once again falling back on defensive maneuvers as the Star Destroyer opened fire on them with its turbolasers. That first lucky shot managed to weaken the weapons pod deflector shield and overload the port engine control feed that helped power the hyperdrive.

"Poe, get in here!" Ana yelled over her wailing console, fighting to silence the alarms so she could concentrate on keeping the transport from getting hit again. In seconds the Commander had staggered into the cockpit. Before he could say anything, she was yanking the headset off and shoving it toward him.

"Can you still fly, Dameron?" She didn't see the offended look he was no doubt giving her, knowing full well what his answer was going to be anyway, focusing instead on dodging a volley of turbolaser fire.

"Of course I can!" Before he'd even finished speaking she was clambering out of the seat and all but shoving him into it.

"Well, then take over."

"What, now?" She spared him a disparaging look as she began rerouting power from the damaged control feed to take the stress off it. He was already settling into the chair, the headset firmly in place as he took over just in time to swerve away from another swath of green laser fire.

"Do you want to explode?" she snapped back.

"Well, that's a little over-dramatic, isn't it?" She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the tetchy comeback, fighting back a flash of amusement at the implied sarcasm as she dashed out of the cockpit toward the port engine access panel.

"Not while that Star Destroyer out there is trying to blow us up!" she threw back over her shoulder, "coordinates are set; as soon as the hyperdrive's back online punch it!" In moments she was flinging open the hyperdrive access panel, flinching away as a paltry gout of acrid smoke spurt out, the unit sparking as she tried to find the source of the short.

"We've got TIEs incoming. How's it going, Adyé," she heard Lek call anxiously from the gunner's seat. Below her feet, she could feel the reverberations of the laser cannons firing. Ana's only response was an aggravated yelp as the panel sparked again right as she was reaching to reset the fuse that would reroute the power necessary to activate the hyperdrive around the fried capacitor; it wasn't a perfect—or even terribly safe—fix, but it would save their skins.

"Go!" she cried even as her singed fingers snapped over the fuse. Almost as soon as the connection initialized, the motivator purred to life and the Transport was catapulted into hyperspace.


	8. Chapter 7

Ana couldn't help but groan in relief as the Transport's engines began to cycle off having settled it securely on the transport pad of D'Qar Base. That mission had been entirely too exciting.

She'd never been to Jakku before…and now she never wanted to go back.

After their run in with the First Order and narrow escape into hyperspace, she'd spent most of the time at lightspeed reworking the wiring and circuitry of the control feed so that her temporary fix wouldn't result in them being blown to bits as the ship tried to drop back into realspace. Poe had abandoned the cockpit to slip into a restless doze sprawled across a row of passenger seats and Lek had taken over keeping an eye on primary systems from the pilot's seat until Ana could get the hyperdrive motivators to re-sync properly once she got the control unit back online.

After that, Lek had kept an eye on Poe while Ana and N3 ran the ship through the requisite series of short hyperspace jumps that she'd been conditioned to cycle through to keep from being followed. It was a habit Reem and her Uncle had instilled in her ages ago, apparently having picked up the habit from her mother themselves. And given their recent encounter, she was admittedly a little paranoid, causing her to fall back on the habit regardless of the slim likelihood that the First Order ship would be able to determine their most likely course.

Pulling herself from the pilot's seat, Ana made her way into the passenger compartment, only slightly relieved to see Poe awake and standing on his own. He didn't look any better for his short rest, though.

Poe looked so drawn and exhausted he seemed nearly dead on his feet. And Ana hadn't been kidding before when she said he looked awful. There was blood matted in his dark hair from a gash on his left temple, his lip had been split and there was a nasty looking cut on his right cheekbone. Not to mention the bruising blooming beneath the collar of his shirt and on the side of his face. Who knew what other injuries she couldn't see. The fact that he needed a good shave and round in the 'fresher wasn't helping with the disheveled look either.

As she came up to stand beside him, he looked over to her, a faint but pained grin flashing over his face. Beyond them, Lek was hitting the controls for the boarding ramp. Gesturing wordlessly for Poe to disembark, Ana stuck close to his side, not trusting the way he seemed ever so slightly off-balance. Sure enough, her caution proved necessary. Halfway down the shallow ramp Poe began listing to the left. In an instant Ana was at his side, gesturing for Lek to give her a hand as she slipped beneath his arm to steady him. He bit back a groan as Ana's hand braced against his torso, helping to guide him the rest of the way down the ramp.

"I'm fine, Adyé," the Commander grumbled, but there was a flash of weary gratitude in his dark eyes as he let himself lean against her. Ana would have been tempted to roll her eyes at his attempted bravado if she wasn't so worried about him. It looked like he was exhausted more than anything, but given how pale he'd grown and the stiff way he moved, she wasn't quite willing to believe that was the extent of his problem. She was fairly certain he had at least some bruised ribs from Plutt's goons and quite possibly a concussion to boot. And that wasn't even counting what the First Order might have done to him.

Almost as soon as they reached the duracrete landing pad, Lek and Ana were heading for the medical centre. Naturally, Poe caught on quite quickly.

"I need to see General Organa immediately," he insisted, putting as much authority as he could manage into his tone. Ana nodded in agreement.

"Sure," she agreed lightly. "You're also going to the medical centre." Poe tried to pull away, to stop, but he didn't quite manage it, stumbling a little instead. That didn't halt his almost desperately exasperated insistence.

"Adyé, I need to speak to the General."

"Dameron," Ana countered with an equal measure of exasperation, "you look half dead. You're going to the medical centre." He started to interrupt, but Ana easily cut him off, "and did I say you  _couldn't_  see the General? Really." She was tempted to roll her eyes, but Poe's mollified expression was drowned out by another wince as they reached the stairs.

"Do you know how much you sound like a politician when you twist words like that," Poe muttered weakly as they started down the stairs that led to the heart of the Resistance Base.

"Must run in the family," she said absently, not quite realizing precisely what she said until Poe frowned, trying to level her with a questioning look even as he focused on getting down the stairs with as little help as possible. Ana actually did roll her eyes as he tried to pull away from her, a proud set to his features. She didn't care about his battered pride just then.

"Run in the family? You never mention your family." Ana nearly bit her tongue, suddenly irritated with herself when he called her on what she said. She was just letting all sorts of unguarded things that she normally wouldn't dream of sharing slip out today. She must be more worried that she thought… She grit her teeth as he stumbled against her before she managed to answer.

"I had a grandmother who was a senator," she muttered when he refused to stop looking at her curiously for an answer, even going so far as to pause halfway down the stairs when she initially refused to elaborate. When he wanted to be, Poe was incredibly stubborn. "And apparently both my grandmothers were elected Royalty on their home planet, and one even served as Queen, if I remember right." Despite being abruptly more forthcoming than she had initially planned, she wasn't about to admit she also had an Aunt who was not only a Princess, but also held the distinction of once being the youngest Senator ever to hold a seat in the Senate, Imperial or Republic.

And that wasn't even mentioning the two famous Jedi sides of her pedigree.

Poe's actually snickered, causing Ana to glare at him.

"Royalty, really? Do I need to call you Lady Adyé now?" If he hadn't looked on the verge of toppling over or passing out, she'd have been tempted to smack him.

"Switch off, Dameron," she bit back. On Poe's other side Lek barked out a laugh at Ana's acerbic warning, causing the aching Commander to wince at the volume.

"I'd listen to her, Poe. She's still mad that you not only lost that X-wing, but about your TIE escapades as well," the Lieutenant cautioned good-naturedly, still chuckling at the stormy look on Ana's face.

"Escapades? Really? We were getting shot at!" Poe exclaimed as he jerked to a halt, shooting Lek a disparaging glare of his own and nearly unbalancing Ana as she tried to steady him. Ana swore, her fingers fisting in Poe's shirt as she not only tried to steady him but herself.

Thankfully, they had reached the bottom of the stairs, and Poe was able to manage mostly on his own again, keeping a tentative but tight hold on Ana's shoulder instead of actively leaning on her for balance. It wasn't much farther to the medical bay from there.

"You know, I just can't figure out why you've been using so many Tatooine expressions today," Poe abruptly said, more than a little curiosity in his overly conversational tone. "As far as I knew, you've never been there." Ana's jaw clenched. Of all the days for him to be curious and stubborn about things she didn't want to talk about…

"You're not still caught up on that, are you?" He shrugged.

"I'm just curious, Adyé. You used another one on the stairs just now, a Huttese one, I think, though I might be wrong about that." Ana nearly bit her tongue when she realized he was right. Why was she falling back on curses she'd picked up when she was a kid now of all times? She'd deliberately avoided using some of those phrases for years because of the questions they raised. Tatooine was not a common place to be from, so phrases from there always stuck out in conversation. And why did he want to have this conversation now…why did he want to have it at all? Poe rarely pressed her about her past. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than she'd thought… "I don't speak it," he continued, "but I can recognize a few curses; that one was something about Jabba's flabby right—"

"I have been there, you know," she said defensively, cutting him off, "it wasn't a long visit, but I have been to Tatooine." He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You don't pick up ingrained expressions like that in an hour or two. And you're definitely not from there."

She gave him a scathing look. "How do you know?"

"You've told me you're originally from Naboo and you're deflecting," he countered. She sighed, her mind racing. Half-truth? Lie? Poe was a terrible liar himself, but he was pretty good at picking up on them.

"I knew someone from Tatooine a long time ago," she finally said. "I guess I picked up more of his expressions than I thought." Poe straightened a bit, an odd expression flitting across his handsome features.

"He? Who's he?" Ana couldn't help but laugh at his tone; he was trying to sound so casual, but that made him sound even more curious. "Anyone I know?"

"Jealous, Dameron," she asked, allowing herself to smirk at him as she teased. Now it was Poe making a disgruntled face at her. But he didn't get a chance to respond. Almost the instant they passed through the door to the medical centre, Dr. Kalonia appeared to take charge of her new and reluctant patient, having been waiting for them since Ana informed Command that Poe was injured when they'd been on approach to the Base.

Even knowing very well that she was likely on her way already, Ana pointedly sent Lek to retrieve the General for Poe's sake when he'd renewed his insistence that he needed to see General Organa immediately. Ana hadn't been wrong; Lek had barely been gone for two minutes when Leia appeared in the medical centre.

But Leia's presence still didn't stop the battered Commander from resisting Dr. Kalonia and the Med-techs' efforts to get him onto one of the cots to be examined. If anything, it made him more insistent that he was fine. It finally took Ana, the doctor and General Organa together to convince him to submit to an exam at all. Even as Dr. Kalonia began treating his minor concussion and bruised ribs he was making his appeal to Leia.

"General, I have to go back. I left BB-8 behind with the package from San Tekka to keep it away from the First Order. I told him to run, to hide; I have to go back for him. I have to find him." Ana started, fixing Poe with an incredulous look. She didn't miss the wary look Leia gave her, but Ana ignored it, her attention on the Commander.

"Lor San Tekka?" she blurted out before she could stop it, "he's on Jakku?" Poe hesitated, a pained expression flashing over his face at her question. At once a sick feeling was twisting in her chest.

"He was, but he was killed in the First Order raid…" he said quietly. Ana's breath caught. It felt like a lifetime ago when she'd last seen the old explorer. She remembered him visiting her parents when she was a child, and listening to stories about his many adventures or tales from the time before the Empire; his favourites to tell had been stories about the Jedi. Poe didn't seem to notice her reaction, caught up himself at the reminder of the old man's fate. After a moment he seemed to shake himself free of the memory, though his expression was still grim as he turned back to the General.

"He gave me the data unit and I gave it to BB-8 when the First Order cut off my escape. I told him to run and hide with it—" Ana's attention was instantly drawn back to Poe's story, part of it sounding very familiar.

"Wait, you put the unit, the very thing you were sent to retrieve, in your astrodroid for safekeeping?" He looked at her, faintly startled as though, in his focus on convincing the General, he'd forgotten she was still listening.

"Well, yeah," he said. She spared him a look of utter disbelief, before glancing over to her Aunt.

"Isn't that what you did, General? With the Death Star plans way back when?" Leia suddenly seemed like she wasn't quite sure whether to chuckle or frown with exasperation. Poe, meanwhile, shrugged casually at Ana's observation, the hint of a sheepish grin on his face.

"I suppose I had to get the idea from somewhere. And it was a pretty good idea…" Ana renewed her incredulous study of him. He missed it, flinching at whatever it was Dr. Kalonia was doing with his ribs. Ana crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him when he finally looked back to her.

"You do remember how that plan worked out, right? It brought the Death Star to the Alliance's front door." Poe looked thoughtful for a moment before a perfectly satisfied look appeared on his face, looking first to Ana, then Leia. The General seemed to be fighting back an indulgent look.

"It worked out pretty well, really," he said brightly before involuntarily yelping as Dr. Kalonia took advantage of his distraction to dose him with something, "that better not be a sedative." Dr. Kalonia assured him it was a compound to help treat his concussion, but he didn't look convinced, levelling the doctor with a suspicious look. Ana groaned, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again, drawing Poe's attention away from the doctor.

"And how's it working this time around?" she asked dryly. Leia frowned in Ana's direction, looking like she was about to reprimand Ana for her repeated interruptions. Poe had the audacity to chuckle.

"Don't pay her any mind, General. She's just sulking because I got to fly a TIE fighter," he said with a wide grin. Ana made a face at him. But then she caught her Aunt's admonishing look behind Poe's back. Ana just shrugged. She could have sworn Leia was verging on rolling her eyes. Ana nearly smiled in amusement at the thought. But then Poe abruptly sobered, his attention shifting again so that the General was once again on the receiving end of his demanding look.

"General, I'm not going to stop asking; give me clearance to go back to Jakku," he said, sounding almost petulant. Ana could tell he knew he was losing the argument. Leia gave him a firm look, crossing her arms before shaking her head. Ana knew that look. There would be no budging her Aunt on this.

"No, Commander. You need to recover."

"But General, I'm fine. What I need to do is complete my mission," he insisted. Leia gave him a knowing yet sympathetic look. Ana couldn't help but agree with her Aunt. Admittedly, Poe was already looking much better—his complexion far healthier and his eyes no longer dulled as they had been when she and Lek helped him off the Transport—but he still looked like it would do him good to sleep for at least week.

"I know, Poe," the General said gently, "But the situation has become more complicated; the First Order's after your droid now too." Poe paled, trying to get up only to have Dr. Kalonia shove him unceremoniously back down. Ana frowned, suddenly very curious again as to what this mission was about.

"General Organa, please. I need to do something," Poe insisted with one last appealing plea. As Leia opened her mouth to counter his plea, Dr. Kalonia caught Leia's eye, making a discreet gesture asking for a moment. Leia nodded in acknowledgement, before fixing Poe with a stern look.

"We have people looking into finding the droid," Leia said firmly, "but right now you need to let Dr. Kalonia do her job. You're not going to be of any help to anyone if you run yourself into the ground." With that she turned away, following the doctor across the room toward the diagnostic station. Ana and Poe both watched her retreat, each deep in thought before Ana turned back to the Commander, her arms crossing over her chest again as she fixed him with a stern look of her own. But before she could even open her mouth to speak he was fixing her with an entreating look.

"You've gotta help me out here, Adyé. You've got the General's ear; the longer I sit here—" Ana nearly groaned in exasperation, her hand rising to press against her forehead. Not this again.

"Poe, really—"

"I know, I know. You say you don't but somehow you do. I mean, if you weren't such a bloody good pilot, most of us would be wondering how much she'd helped getting you to Red Leader so quickly. She listens to you, Adyé." Ana's jaw clenched.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dameron," she hissed out with clear exasperation, "I'm no closer to the General than you or any of the other squadron commanders." It wasn't exactly a lie; in her role as the General, Leia was very careful to treat Ana as any of her other Commanders and not as her niece.

"And before you were a squad leader," he challenged, his eyes sharp. Ana tensed. But she purposefully rolled her eyes instead. She knew from experience that the more irritated she allowed herself to get, the bigger a deal it became. Though, considering how much she seemed to be letting past her guard today? Her stomach twisted nervously.

"I was the Base's top mechanic, genius, " she countered impatiently, making exactly the same argument she'd made a dozen times before, "and I helped cobble together those damned transports. Not to mention I'm the defacto Captain of the  _Flame_. Of course I'm going to be on speaking terms with the General. Because that's all it is," she said sharply, cutting him off, "speaking terms." Poe leveled her with an unconvinced look; he knew she was holding something back, just like he always did. But then he sighed looking suddenly exhausted again.

"Even if I pretend I believe you, you can't deny that she does listen to you, Ana," he pressed almost desperately. "At least back me up on this." Ana bit back a distressed noise, shaking her head.

"You believe what you like, but the General's right, Poe," she countered wearily, concern once again overtaking her irritation. No, it was more than concern; it was outright worry. "You were in bad shape by the time we made it back here. There's no way you're ready to go out again just yet." In an instant his agitated expression was overtaken by his usual charming smile.

"Aw, c'mon. You weren't worried about me, were you Adyé?" he teased. Ana huffed, fighting the smile tugging at the corner of her lip. She glanced around, checking that no one was looking in their direction; there was a privacy screen blocking most of the bunk and the Med-centre was mostly deserted save for the General conferencing with Dr. Kalonia and a couple of other med-techs.

No one was paying her or Poe any attention.

Darting forward, Ana lightly grabbed his shirt, leaning in to place a quick but emphatic kiss against his smirking lips.

It was certainly one way to shut him up.


	9. Chapter 8

Ana couldn't help the satisfied grin that played across her features when she pulled back to see the faintly dazed look on Poe's face. She loved doing that, both the kiss part and putting that particular expression on his face.

"Maybe a little worried," she teased back. His head tilted minutely, an odd look appearing in his dark eyes at the way she said it before his familiar bright, cavalier smile was back in place.

She stepped away from him not a moment to soon as, a few seconds later, Dr. Kalonia and General Organa were stepping back around the screen. The doctor gave Poe a pleasant look, gesturing for him to stand while the Leia looked sedately on.

"The good news is your condition isn't quite so serious as we anticipated," Dr. Kalonia started mildly, "your concussion is healing well and with an intensive Bacta treatment for the tissue trauma and some rest you'll be as good as new in no time." Poe shot the doctor and the General a wary look apiece.

"And just how long is 'in no time?'" The doctor couldn't help an indulgent grin at his suspicious tone.

"If we get you started with the Bacta immediately, with a good night's sleep tonight, I'll be able to clear you for duty tomorrow morning." There was no mistaking the relief on Poe's face; he'd obviously been expecting to be out for far longer, as had Ana. He really must have looked far worse off than he'd actually been. Ana was barely able to keep her sigh of relief to herself as something tight and anxious in her chest that she hadn't entirely been conscious of loosened at the doctor's positive prognosis. She hadn't been allowing herself to acknowledge just how worried she'd been about the brash Commander.

As Kalonia and another med-tech began to usher Dameron away to get him prepped for his Bacta treatment, Leia turned to Ana, gesturing for her to leave the med-techs to their work. It startled her when, just before he disappeared around down the passage that led to the Bacta treatment chambers, Poe shot her an oddly entreating glance that she couldn't quite decode. Ana could only manage to offer back a sympathetic look before he disappeared around the corner.

As Poe was led out of sight, Leia's inquisitive expression forced Ana's attention back to her Aunt. As Leia raised a questioning eyebrow at her niece, Ana mentally braced herself to fend off her Aunt's questions about her and Poe.

"A TIE fighter? He almost gets himself killed and you're jealous that he got to fly a TIE fighter?" Ana grinned sheepishly at Leila's question.

"They may be our number one adversary's fighter of choice, but you have to admit, they do look like fun to fly," she said impishly, oddly relieved that that was the source of her Aunt's searching look. This time Leia did roll her eyes in exasperation at Ana's explanation. Ana grinned, holding back a snicker, "I've always wanted to give one a go myself, especially since Mother always said they were one of her favourite things to pilot," and her father had always been a bit jealous of that. The thought came unbidden and sent of quivering shard of pain though her. But she forced herself to ignore it just as she forced herself to ignore Leia's sudden look of sympathetic concern. Immediately, Ana was berating herself for yet again letting words slip out that she usually wouldn't even allow herself to think. What was with her all of a sudden? It wasn't like her to let her tongue run away with her like this. This whole Poe and Jakku thing must have really shaken her…She forced the grin back over her lips, trying to reassure her Aunt that it was nothing.

After a long moment of studying her, Leia's face cleared and she waved Ana off, not so subtly suggesting that Ana take some time to rest and recuperate herself. As she turned to follow the General out of the medical centre, Ana was struck by the sudden urge to wait for Poe to finish up with his treatment. It caught her off guard and she very nearly gave into it.

But at the quick but pointed look she was getting from her Aunt as the General disappeared through the entrance to the medical centre, Ana forced herself to resist the idea. Ana sighed in resignation, mentally shoving her lingering worry for the Commander aside as she strode out the door after her Aunt. There was work that needed to be done on one of the other X-wings anyway.

Besides, there was nothing saying she couldn't go back once Poe was finished with his Bacta treatment. So she might as well do her job while she waited. And it probably wouldn't hurt to let that work soothe her nerves as it always did.

There was just one problem with that; this time, it wasn't working. Where she should have been was easily able to while away a few hours tinkering on one of the other auxiliary fighters, tuning up the converters or resetting the fuel injectors or something on the laundry list of things the other techs always asked her to look into, this time she only ended up with an unsettled feeling deep in her gut, thoughts far more twisted up than she'd like and a set of skinned knuckles.

She couldn't seem to settle, and loathe as she was to admit it, she suspected it had started with that damned  _feeling_  she'd gotten when Poe had been captured. The very idea that it could be Force-related—a ridiculous thought, she scolded herself—had unsettled her. Add in that she had been far more worried about Poe than she'd wanted to admit? She'd let down her guard, and she'd made mistakes. Mistakes that could unravel everything she'd done to keep herself safe. What could've possibly possessed her to let those details about her family slip? She'd worked so hard to keep her past to herself, and now she was just blurting things out on impulse? If she wasn't careful, more than just her past with Reem was going to come out, and she nearly couldn't breathe at the idea.

No, she had worked too hard to make sure that among the members of the Resistance she was simply Ana Adyé, a relative—undefined, of course—of Orran Adyé, a late Commander of the Rebel Alliance. She had taken great pains to make sure one knew that she was also the niece of General Organa and Captain Solo and the granddaughter of not only two Jedi but two prominent Naboo royals. No one knew any of that save the remaining members of her family and their oldest and closest family friends; she could count the number of living people who knew precisely who she was and who her parents were on the fingers of both hands, and that was including droids.

And she preferred to keep it that way. Her stomach churned with dread anytime she so much as considered anyone finding out.

Even Poe, her closet friend, didn't know.

And that set her gut to twisting again.

After longer than it probably should have taken, she finally gave up on her tasks, tossing her things impatiently back into her tool case and then her locker. Even a quick trip to her quarters and an equally quick bout in the 'fresher didn't help soothe her frazzled nerves. Knowing there was nothing for it, she finally gave in and trekked back down to the medical center. She doubted he was going to be ready for release yet, but she wasn't in the mood to simply wait for Poe, not with the way her thoughts seemed determined to go to places she didn't want them to. The bustle of the medical centre and the intention to break Poe out would be just the ticket.

It seemed, though, that Poe was way ahead of her. When she ducked in to look for him, she discovered that he had apparently already made a break for it. Smiling wryly despite herself, Ana eagerly retreated from the curious looks the med-techs were giving her, no longer quite so concerned as she'd been, either about Poe's condition or the need to keep the bottle of Rodian Whiskey under her jacket perfectly hidden.

Now the trick was tracking him down.

Not that that was going to be terribly difficult, she thought wryly.

As she anticipated, she found him sitting in their usual spot atop the hollowed-out berm that housed his X-wing when he was off-duty, staring out at the horizon, his hands clasped loosely in front of his propped-up knees. He looked nearly as good as new, the Bacta treatment having worked wonders to clear up just about every sign of injury save a couple faint scars left on both his cheekbone and formerly split lip. The sun was setting amid a glorious wash of pinks and reds, bands of golden and magenta clouds glowing with the waning rays of daylight.

He didn't even register her approach until she held out the bottle, nudging it gently against his shoulder. She nearly frowned at the way he jumped, but managed to keep the faint sympathetic grin on her face. Since they picked him up on Jakku she'd known from the look on his face alone when he thought no one was looking that the mission hadn't gone well. Add to that his reaction when San Tekka had been brought up…she might have been caught up in her own shock at the fate of the old space-explorer, but she hadn't been so distracted that she'd missed his reaction.

With a grateful almost-smile, he took the bottle, cracking it open to take a healthy swill as Ana settled down beside him, her legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned back on her hands. After taking a second, smaller drink, Poe handed the bottle back to Ana, who availed herself of a mouthful as well. They sat in silence for a while, trading the bottle back and forth, watching as the sun disappeared behind the distant horizon, leaving the sky to fade from reds to purples to blacks.

It was finally Ana who broke the silence.

"It was a bad one, wasn't it." There was no real question and no pretense. She was just letting him know she was willing to listen if he needed her to. He'd done it for her before, several times, starting after her first real mission with the Corps. It had been the first time she'd been in a serious engagement against the First Order; they'd lost two of their own on that mission and it had hit her hard. He'd supplied the whiskey and a sympathetic ear and shoulder. It had become a bit of a ritual between them, to provide each other with a listening ear after tough missions without judgment or censure. Tonight she was more than happy to take her turn in the supportive role. More than that, tonight she figured he needed it more than usual. He took a long, deep breath, letting it out loudly through his nose before nodding solemnly. She held out the bottle again, allowing him to take a bolstering sip.

"Yeah, it was bad," he said quietly after swallowing, the bottle not moving far from his lips, ready to provide him with another swallow. He took one last short sip before handing it back to Ana again. "I met up with San Tekka in Tuanul, picked up the package he had for the General and the First Order was on us almost immediately. He urged me to run. Hell, I didn't want to just leave them, but I knew my mission; I had to." Ana listened silently, watching her dearest friend's face as he spoke. His hand twitched, as though he were thinking of reaching for the bottle again. He looked down, his eyes focused on the events replaying through his memory instead of on his slowly flexing fingers.

"They hit my fighter before I could take off, so I had nowhere to go. I fought back. I got a good number of them too, but then—then  _he_  showed up and it was over." A feeling of nauseous dread settled in the pit of Ana's stomach. She didn't even need to ask who  _he_  was. Somehow she knew. A stray breeze brushed across her cheek, but that wasn't what made her shiver with unease. If anything, the breeze helped, feeling oddly like a caress.

Poe was oblivious to her reaction, lost in reliving it as he was.

"Ren stopped a blaster bolt in midair," he continued, completely lost to his memories. "I didn't know that was even possible. I'd heard stories; Darth Vader could supposedly deflect blaster bolts with a gesture, and everybody knows the Jedi could do it with a lightsaber; but Ren froze it, froze me where I stood." Ana felt herself growing cold, the sick feeling churning away in her gut. She knew that if Poe were to look over to her now she'd have gone almost completely white. She forced herself not to move, not to tense in her unease, but to stay relaxed, listening.

"The First Order took me prisoner. They tortured me for a bit; it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be, not really; nothing I couldn't handle. I mean, I've been trained to withstand that sort of thing…but Ren—he got into my head—I don't, I can't…" he hesitated, his breath coming quicker as his body and mind relived the experience. He scrubbed a hand over his face, as though he could rub away the memory. "I've never felt anything like that before, never felt pain like that before; I can't even describe it. I broke and I can't even say I'm ashamed to admit it; I don't know how anyone could withstand that." Taking a deep, steadying breath herself, Ana took a swig of the whiskey before handing it back to Poe, who snatched it gratefully. He took a deep, bracing breath once he swallowed.

"And do you know what else? Him, in my head like that, wasn't even the worst part," he choked, sounding almost like he was fighting back a dry sob. Ana couldn't bear the devastated, haunted look in his eyes. She knew what was coming. She'd heard the rumours floating around the Base…and she knew that look in his eyes. She couldn't help but lean forward, wrapping her arms loosely around her knees as though that could ease the sudden pressure on her chest, nearly mirroring his posture as she fought an internal battle to keep herself together, her hands clenched to keep from trembling. His voice was hollow when he eventually continued.

"As they loaded me onto the transport, Ren gave the order to kill everyone in the village. I never thought—I never even imagined that they'd actually…it was a massacre, Ana…you can't imagine—I still hear the screams, in my head, and I can't escape them." Ana's eyes slammed shut. It  _was_  a scene she could picture easily enough. This time the breeze, warm and comforting as it might be, didn't help in the slightest. She fought to draw a shaky breath, snatching back the bottle with sore fingers to take a long drink; they were almost out. It hadn't dulled her enough, evidently. The resurgent memories Poe's account had dredged up from her own past were still sharp and vivid.

"Believe it or not, I can," she contradicted quietly. Startled, Poe looked over at her, recognizing the same haunted quality to her voice that was plaguing him. She couldn't look at him, staring out instead at the stars that were beginning to speckle the sky. Before she knew it, she was speaking again, barely registering the words leaving her mouth.

"The screams are bad, but the silence afterward is worse. When there are screams, there is still life, still hope. But there is no more hope with silence. Only blood. Blood and dead faces." She furiously ignored the tears that were beginning to trail down her cheeks even as her voice broke. She could practically taste the ash and blood and death that had filled the air, the echo of the  _sense_  of it all threatening to overwhelm her mind. She'd never shared this with anyone before, not even her Aunt or Uncle. Damned whiskey. Most of the time it dulled the memories; tonight it seemed like the alcohol was calling them.

The bottle was pulled from her own loose grip, pulling Ana sluggishly back from the trap of her darkest memories. But instead of drinking from it, Poe set it aside, his dark eyes focusing on her pale ones as his thumb rose to brush away her tears. She watched him back, leaning closer, eyes tracing his familiar, comforting features as he studied hers, his fingers stilling to cup her cheek.

Then he was kissing her, softly, his hand tilting her head until she was leaning closer still, her own fingers rising to brush against his jaw. She could taste the sharpness of the whiskey on his lips. The kiss deepened and his grip grew more insistent, his other hand winding around her waist, skimming beneath the hem of her shirt. As Ana's mouth parted against his, her own arm wound about his neck, fingers tangling in his dark curls to pull him in closer. She wanted to get lost in this just as much as he did, to let his touch help her forget.

So she let it.


	10. Chapter 9

Even before Ana opened her eyes she was rewarded for waking with a dull headache, her dream vanishing like mist in the sun, the island and the dark sea and the quiet, insistent call—no, not quite a call…a  _need_  to find whatever was hiding on the island—fading in favour of what felt suspiciously like a hangover. Especially considering the acrid, bitter, even faintly sulphuric taste coating her mouth and nose. Fighting back a groan, she shifted to press the heel of her hand against her temple; she hadn't drunk enough for this.

Thankfully, the massaging pressure seemed to ease the throbbing sensation, leading Ana to hope she wasn't condemned to face a full-bore hangover after all. Nope, just the usual, token morning headache and deep, itching pricks that shivered dully across her skin in that brief, surreal moment as her mind shifted from sleep to wakefulness that came along with that damned dream.

At least it all usually disappeared by the time she pulled herself out of bed, fading the way dreams typically do. It was probably the only reason she'd been able to cope with the uncomfortable things for so many years.

She froze as her movement caused the warm, comforting weight currently resting across her hip to shift. A gentle, sleepy exhale brushed across the back of her neck as the fingers twined with hers tightened ever so slightly. Her eyes snapped open as memory of the previous evening returned with vivid clarity, easily erasing the memory of the recurring dream that had woken her. Ana forced herself to breathe slowly, careful not to wake Poe, who was still sleeping deeply, as she shifted again so that she could see him. She restrained the urge to brush back the wayward curls that had fallen across his forehead, but ultimately failed, the soft strands twining around her fingers as she brushed them back, her touch trailing along his jaw as she drew them back. He looked so peaceful when he slept, especially as compared to the day before, when the events on Jakku had weighed so heavily on him. Though part of her knew she shouldn't, Ana allowed herself a few moments to just watch over him, her eyes tracing his strong features as she knew she shouldn't have permitted her fingers to.

Then, steeling her nerve and pushing aside her reluctance, she forced herself to slip from beneath the arm he had curled around her, gently easing her fingers from his before escaping to the 'fresher attached to his quarters, suddenly desperate for the solitude it afforded to try and sort out her thoughts.

As she stepped beneath the relaxing spray, she couldn't help but replay the events of the night before, culminating in the situation she now found herself in.

It had been different last night. Any time they'd been together before, it had never been anything serious; a chance to unwind; an indulgence in the undeniable physical attraction between them; a bit of excitement and fun; a casual dalliance and nothing more.

But last night had been more than that; it had been about comfort and not feeling alone; about just the two of them. It had been about feeling alive.

It had never been like that before. Before they had just been friends who were occasionally also lovers; though she had to admit, it was something that had been happening more frequently as time went on, leading her to wonder if the dynamic of their relationship had been changing even before last night.

But despite periodically sleeping together, they had never crossed the line from lovers to  _lovers_. This time?

It was different. The way she'd looked at him before she'd pulled herself from his side just now had been different. She hadn't used to look at him like that. She used to be able to keep her view of him as a friend separate from their more intimate activities, almost as though the two sides were two separate people. She'd give him the odd appreciative look, of course, and the flirting was almost more a part of their friendship than anything else—it had definitely always been simply fun rather than an indicator of anything more, she firmly told herself—but she'd always been able to keep from looking at him  _that_  way even when they were… _alone_.

She'd always been careful to never let herself get that close to him on that kind of emotional level. To never cross that line. It was also a facet of their relationship that had so far remained completely and utterly private, even secret.

But it seemed that line was beginning to blur.

Or maybe it had a long time ago, and she just hadn't noticed.

Now, though…it definitely felt like something had changed.

The tangible proof still lay on the bunk just outside the 'fresher door. That had certainly never happened before. No matter where they ended up when they were together, they always parted ways to sleep in their own quarters afterward.

But that didn't erase the fact that Ana had woken up with Poe's fingers laced with hers, so deeply asleep that he hadn't even stirred as she left the bed. Ana's heart thrummed the more she tried to puzzle it all out. She'd been trying to ignore the way she'd been coming to feel about the Commander, constantly reminding herself that what they had in private was nothing truly serious, that it was exciting because it was secret, and that they were friends only. But she wasn't entirely sure she could ignore it any more.

Maybe it was time to put an end to it.

An ache went through her chest as she considered that possibility.

Having long since finished washing up, even lost to her thoughts as she'd been, there was little excuse to standing beneath the spray any longer. Ana shut off the water, silently scolding herself for allowing herself to overthink things. Surely nothing had actually changed, right? It had to be a simple, reasonable explanation why she hadn't returned to her own quarters; he'd had to endure an incredible amount of physical and emotional trauma since first setting out for his mission, and had needed the comfort another person's presence provided. She supposed that she could also admit that she'd been too worried to leave him alone. But she refused to admit she'd needed the comfort just as much as he had. She knew how to cope, she reminded herself, and had been doing so for years. The fact that her means of coping had been faltering over the last day or so was undoubtedly a fluke. It had to be. She refused to think otherwise.

But as Ana stepped back into Poe's quarters from the 'fresher, somewhat prepared for the day ahead short of the fresh clothes she would need to retrieve from her own quarters, she knew it was futile to try and convince herself that nothing had changed. He hadn't stirred in the slightest, his arm still outstretched as though reaching for her. She had to fight back the overwhelming urge to slip back into his embrace or even to place a kiss across his temple, brushing her fingers through his frustratingly perfect curls. Instead, she forced herself to turn, intending to leave him to sleep in peace even knowing he was likely going to be upset with her that she didn't wake him.

Besides, she found she didn't quite have the heart to disturb him.

"You showered without me," came a sleep-slurred but teasing tone from the bed. Ana's hand paused just short of the door control, suddenly biting back the grin that threatened. Just like her attempt to leave quietly, it didn't work.

"You were still asleep, Hotshot," she countered softly as she turned back to him, not even thinking to hide the fondness in her voice. He hadn't even moved.

"M'mm, not anymore," he said, not sounding at all convincing. Her grin widened. Had he even opened his eyes yet? Actually, she wasn't even entirely sure he really was awake.

"Sure about that?" she teased lightly, crossing her arms even as part of her wanted to edge back to the bed. She ignored the impulse. That would not be a good idea.

Poe huffed out a small chuckle, reaching out with a nearly limp hand to beckon her sleepily back. "You don't have to leave," he mumbled.

"You know I do," she disagreed softly, trying not to sound as reluctant as she felt. "It wouldn't do to get caught leaving your quarters. Otherwise we'd have started sleeping over a long time ago, I bet," she added wryly. It was then that his eyes finally opened, fixing somewhat blearily on her as a chuckle huffed out of his chest.

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, only for the shadow of his usual cocky grin to return. "It wouldn't do to make everyone else jealous. So you should probably hide out here for a bit." Ana scoffed, though the sound was awfully close to a laugh as he patted her spot on the mattress half-heartedly. "The bed's a good place," he mumbled with a smirk, his eyes already sliding shut again, his head slumping back into his pillow.

"You're still asleep, Dameron," she chided gently, shaking the way part of her was considering the tempting offer away, "and I do need to go."

"No I'm not," came his pillow muffled reply.

She shot him a skeptical look. "Oh?"

"Nope. Or you'd still be over here." He patted the mattress groggily again. She shook her head at the declaration, ignoring the way her cheeks suddenly felt warm. He was incorrigible.

"Nice try, Hotshot," she responded dryly despite the wide smile tugging at her lips. This felt much more normal. "I'll see you later." The only response she got was a drowsy groan that sounded almost like agreement.

It was hours before she saw him again. Hours of filling out reports on her impromptu mission to Jakku, looking over supply manifests for the fighter pad and looking over reports submitted by the pilots under her command among other tedious administrative responsibilities. It was the one aspect of being a squadron commander that she despised. She loved flying, and she even enjoyed the leadership responsibilities that came with her position as Red Leader, but she hated the administrative stuff. It was almost enough to make her miss being a mechanic or even a lowly Lieutenant…although, she had still had to fill out reports then too…just not quite so many. And she hadn't had to oversee a few dozen other people's reports too.

It was times like this when she questioned why she'd agreed to join the Resistance in the first place; certainly enough to make her wish she'd gone along with Poe's drowsy request…

Having finally gotten her Squadron's most recent batch of mission reports in order and submitted, Ana snatched up the datapad containing her Jakku report and set off to find her Aunt. When she'd run into the General earlier that morning, Leia had requested Ana hand in her report on Poe's retrieval to her directly. It wasn't exactly protocol, but Ana wasn't terribly concerned. It had been a secret mission Poe was on, so Ana thought it made perfect sense to hand in the report to Leia directly.

She nearly hesitated, though, when upon finally tracking down her Aunt, she came up on Leia locked in an intent debate with Poe. The current uncertainty of their relationship had been weighing on Ana all morning, and she was desperately hoping they could avoid blowing the secret of it as a result, especially given her apparent new habit of letting loose things she shouldn't the last day or so. Encountering Poe now, in her Aunt's presence, was going to be a severe test of Ana's resolve not to let the previous night or this morning affect their outward relationship. Forcing a steadying breath into her lungs, Ana approached the General and the Commander, burying her sudden nervousness deep down where she hoped her Aunt wouldn't pick up on it.

Her apology for interrupting proved to be virtually ignored, Leia and Poe both nearly too caught in their discussion to pay her much mind. However, Poe's gaze fixed on her for a brief moment, the expression in his eyes unreadable as he studied her before turning his attention back to Leia. Ana felt her cheeks warm, but she forced herself to act like nothing had happened lest her Aunt take notice.

"General, please," Poe was saying, "I have to go back for him. We need that data unit, and I promised BB-8 I'd come back for him. I'll search the entire planet myself, inch by inch, if I have to." Leia gave him a wan smile, laying a cautioning hand on his shoulder.

"Poe, I think I know better than anyone why we need that unit," the General said, "but the intelligence we've received suggests that BB-8 is no longer on Jakku." Ana immediately got the impression that she was missing something, and not just because she walked in partway through the conversation. Absently, Leia took the datapad that Ana held out to her, glancing over it quickly without really seeing it. She was too intent on her conversation with the Commander to pay Ana much attention. Poe's response froze in his mouth as he stared at the General in confusion.

"Not on Jakku? Where could he have gone?"

"Intelligence says that he and the Stormtrooper who helped you managed to escape the raid on Niima Outpost on a stolen freighter. Unfortunately that's all we've heard. We have no idea where they are now; they could be anywhere; they could be on their way here, for all we know." Poe leveled General Organa with a determined look.

"First word we get on their location, I'm gone," he declared, "I've got to get him back."

Leia sighed, nearly throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Commander—"

"No, General," Poe interrupted, earning a few stunned glances from those within earshot. "I will complete my mission; I said I'd get you that map to Skywalker and that's what I'm gonna do." Ana felt her face go pale, suddenly feeling cold.

"Skywalker!" She couldn't help but blurt it out. Leia and Poe's eyes both shot to her, as though they'd forgotten she was still there. Ana was shocked nearly beyond words. She had to fist her fingers to keep them from shaking, something that didn't escape her Aunt's notice. "That's what this is all about? Finding Luke Skywalker?"

"Commander Adyé—" Leia started, her tone meant to be placating and even warning. But it was as though Ana didn't even hear her, her pulse roaring in her ears, one thought and one thought alone taking over.

"Why did no one tell me?"

"Well, it was a secret mission, Adyé," Poe said, a trace of a grin on his face. Ana's gut twisted, feeling suddenly cold as realization broke through along with her reason; she was abruptly reminded that he didn't know. Her eyes flicked back to her Aunt.

"Why didn't you send me?" she asked softly, painfully aware of the hurt that threaded through her voice. A faint draft wafted against her hair, tugging at the loose strands, but Ana barely noticed. Her attention was fixed solely on her Aunt. It was even as though Poe wasn't even there, anymore. Leia sighed.

"You know why," her Aunt said firmly, though her tone was nevertheless gentle. But Ana could all but hear why in that tone: you're too close to this; it needed someone who could stay focused solely on the mission. There was a ghost of apology in her brown eyes, but otherwise the General looked entirely unrepentant. Something small, sharp and painful flickered in Ana's chest. It was then that Ana noticed the frown of confusion on Poe's face. She turned on him, barely able to contain the frustration coursing through her at this sudden turn of events, letting it drown out the sudden sensation of heartache.

"So that's why you were sent off to nearly get yourself killed? You really think  _he's_  going to help?" she challenged scathingly. The draft returned, cooler this time, causing a faint shiver to run through her.

"Commander!" Leia broke in, shocked. Poe looked equally taken aback.

"You do know who we're talking about, right?" he asked, utterly bewildered, "Luke Skywalker; the Hero of the Rebel Alliance? Adyé, he could be the key to getting a leg up on the First Order. He blew up the Death Star his first time in an X-wing. He's a legend. I mean, he went face to face with the Emperor and won!"

"More like went face to face with the Emperor and survived, you mean," Ana muttered. He leveled her with a look of utter disbelief. Out of the corner of her eye Ana could see from the look on her Aunt's face that Leia looked equally astonished, if not more so. As if on cue to break up the quickly escalating argument, C-3P0 chose that moment to approach.

"Pardon me, General, but there appears to be some urgent intelligence out of Takodana. BB-8 appears to have turned up in Maz Kanata's establishment along with two humans who match the descriptions of those who assisted him in escaping from Jakku." Instantly distracted from Ana's baffling behavior, Poe's hand slammed down on the edge of the station's console.

"General, permission—" Leia held up a hand, still looking at Threepio.

"Hold on, Commander."

"But General, the First Order may alrea—"

"What else, Threepio," Leia prompted, ignoring Poe's protests. Ana's belly churned. She still could barely get past what Poe's original mission had been. A map to Luke Skywalker—her father—after all this time?

"It also appears BB-8 and his companions are in the company of Captain Solo," the golden droid said, sounding almost hesitant. That caught Ana's attention. Leia nodded in understanding, acting as though it was just another piece of intelligence, but Ana saw the sudden reserve and the apprehension in her Aunt's eyes. The General finally turned to Poe.

"Commander Dameron, you'll take Blue Squadron and secure BB-8 and the map immediately. While Maz might be more personally sympathetic to the Resistance, her place will have its share of First Order spies right beside our own. They may already know he's there." Poe nodded sharply before faltering.

"Half of Blue Squadron is out on missions of their own, including Blue Leader. If the First Order knows BB-8's on Takodana, half a squad may not be enough, especially since they'll have air support." Leia nodded thoughtfully before turning to Ana.

"Commander Adyé, pick some of Red Squadron to join up with whoever of Blue is available. You'll fly as Poe's second on this one." Nodding herself in deference to the General, Ana was almost immediately off to notify the selection of pilots she already had in mind.

"Hey." It was Poe tugging gently on her arm to stop her for a moment, having followed after her almost as soon as she turned. Part of her was hesitant to meet his eye. "What was that all about? I mean—damn, Ana, I don't think I've ever seen you like this."

Already she regretted her outburst, embarrassed that she let herself get so worked up over the slim chance that a way to find Skywalker had magically appeared after all these years. She was also rather ashamed of the way she'd spoken to Poe, especially since she recognized he had no idea what lay at the heart of it; she knew she got irrational when it came to mention of her father.

Now on top of that, her uncertainty regarding their relationship was suddenly resurfacing now that she no longer had the distraction of his and Leia's conversation to push it from her mind, throwing her thoughts further still into turmoil…it appeared her headache was back. Her jaw clenched, and suddenly—bewilderingly—the urge to spill everything was poised on the tip of her tongue. But she forced it back with a monumental effort. Finally she sighed.

"I don't even know, Poe," she admitted wearily, a hand rising to massage against her forehead. "Something I should be long over." His frown deepened as she finally risked looking up at him, but his dark eyes held only concern. She could tell he almost desperately wanted to press, but thought better of it, taking in the set of her features before almost visibly pushing the rest of his questions aside.

"You got this?" he asked quietly instead. The concern from his gaze was there in his voice, but as he continued to study her she got the distinct feeling he wasn't exactly asking as her commanding officer. Taking a deep breath she forced a wry smile to her face, nodding.

After a tense heartbeat more of considering her, he nodded himself, shooting her a faint grin indicating all was well and clapping a hand on her shoulder.

Ana barely restrained her exhale of relief, feeling the tension between them melting away with his easy grin, as though their relationship stabilized with that single silent exchange. She gave him a similar pat on the shoulder before they parted ways.


	11. Chapter 10

As soon as she had notified her pilots to report, ready for takeoff, to the situation room, Ana was gearing up herself. Even if she thought going after Skywalker was an exercise in futility, she wasn't about to ignore her orders or back out on her squadron-mates, nor was she about to leave her uncle to the mercy of the First Order without a fight. If he was helping BB-8, he was as much of a target now as the little droid or his new companions. If not more so, considering…

Besides, any chance to take her X-wing out against the First Order was all right in her books.

Especially after what had happened on Jakku.

She couldn't get Poe's words out of her head. Nor could she entirely suppress the memories of her own those words had brought to the surface.

As she strode back into the situation room a few minutes later, she was pleased to see most of the pilots had already reported in, waiting arrayed around the primary tactical display. The holo-projector was already displaying a full layout of the landscape surrounding Maz Kanata's Palace. On the far side, Poe, Admiral Statura and General Organa were already discussing their likely strategy and approach. As usual, Threepio was standing ever at the ready at Leia's elbow. Ana made her way toward an open space about a third of the way around the display base from where her Aunt and the Commander stood.

"You joining us, Red Leader?" The question came from Jess Pava, one of Blue Squadron's pilots, as Ana passed. Ana shot her a grin.

"You think I'd pass on a chance to show up those First Order slugs?" she tossed back. Jess laughed before turning back to the display. The exchange caught both Poe and Leia's attention, causing both of them to look up as Ana took the empty spot next to Snap Wexley. Ana pointedly ignored the searching look both of them sent her way.

As the last two or three pilots straggled in the briefing had already started. Their course of action was ultimately dependent on whether or not the First Order was already on the planet. Ana was deep in thought as Poe and a couple of the other pilots discussed the best approach should the First Order already be on the ground, which was the most likely scenario. Already it had been proposed and decided that a small contingent of ground troops would now accompany the fighters as undoubtedly the First Order would bring along ground troops of their own. Now all that remained was deciding on how best to initiate the potential engagement in order to give themselves any advantage they could get. Ana ran over their options in her head, considering and discarding them in turn as they played out before her mind's eye. She'd been to Takodana once with Reem, ages ago, leaving her with some sense of the area beyond what a holo-map could tell her. One possible option stood out as she considered it.

"Low approach on the water side; the inlet's terrain will provide additional cover from any First Order sensors they're likely to have in-atmosphere," Ana finally threw out for consideration. A couple of the other pilots looked over at her. She could practically feel Snap groaning in dismay along with a few of the others who had heard her; most of the pilots here didn't really like fighting in-atmosphere, which was exactly what her suggestion would lead to. Poe looked over at her in deliberation for a moment before studying the projection again, nodding slowly as he mulled over her suggestion. A slow smile came to his face. He glanced up at Ana again for a second before looking to the General and the Admiral.

"Adyé might be onto something. Fly low enough and we will avoid most of their sensors; it'll give us a clean approach. Plus, TIEs have lousy maneuverability in-atmosphere compared to X-wings, which will even the odds if we're outnumbered, which is more than likely."

"It'll also give us the element of surprise. Our fighters would be on top of them before they even realize we're coming," Statura added thoughtfully. Leia looked between Poe, the Admiral and Ana before surveying the rest of the assembled pilots, weighing the options before posing quieter questions to each of the men beside her. A few of the pilots began murmuring amongst themselves, taking the General's cue, each discussing the merits and drawbacks of Ana's idea.

Suddenly Ana couldn't breathe, her chest constricting so tight it felt like her ribs were about to crack as distant, heavy screams and bursts of indescribable terror and pain surged against her mind, causing her vision to flicker. She could feel herself losing her balance, her hand shooting out to brace herself against the display, her knuckles aching from the strain as she gripped the edge of the console in front of her. A breathless, hoarse whimper escaped her lips as she struggled to breathe.

And then it was over, and it was as though all that pain and death had never happened, which brought on a sensation of pain and horror all its own.

Around her, other pilots were looking to the General in bewilderment. Reacting just as Ana had, Leia had abruptly fallen silent mid-word, her face going white and completely blank as her usually open gaze turned distant and tortured. Beside her, both Statura and Poe's attention was now fixed on the former Senator, each looking profoundly worried as the General wavered on her feet, having reached out to the golden droid at her side to keep from losing her balance completely. Almost as one, everyone around the table went silent. The faint hum of the tactical display console was the only sound in the room. No one was paying Ana's similar experience any notice.

Ana's eyes shot to her Aunt even as she struggled to regain her breath. Beginning to recover herself, Leia was just as pale as Ana imagined herself to be, her haunted gaze seeking out Ana's even as she softly assured the Admiral and the Commander at her side that she was fine. Even so, she was still leaning heavily on Threepio, a hand fisted tightly and pressed against her heart.

It was an open secret among some of the higher ranking members of the Resistance that Leia had some Force sensitivity—just how much was less well known, though a few had a good idea considering it was widely known that she was a Skywalker by birth—so when Ana faintly heard her Aunt cryptically telling Statura that she had a  _feeling_  the First Order's weapon was operational, he didn't look at all confused, but rather, suddenly very troubled. Unbidden, a long, nearly forgotten memory surged to the forefront of Ana's mind:

"The destruction of Alderaan echoed through the Force," her father had said solemnly, the words even now echoing in Ana's ears, "even reaching Obi-wan while we were at lightspeed. He said it felt like millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced; it's impossible to forget his exact words, or the way that he said it. He tried to hide it, but whatever he'd felt had been excruciating to sense, so much so that he seemed in a great deal of physical pain from it." Her mother's hands had begun shaking as her father had spoken, though she had quickly clasped them together to hide it. Ana had seen it though. She easily remembered the strained look on her mother's face and the pained glitter in her blue-grey eyes. It had taken Athara a couple of tries before she was able to speak.

"It's indescribable," she'd finally said quietly, "all that pain…the terror…the sheer scope and magnitude of that many deaths all in one instant, of the death of a  _planet_ … In that split-second before the planet exploded I felt the terror; then the emptiness, the silence, the…the  _absence_ —it hit like a physical pain. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. It felt like I was dying with them, like the combined effect of all those lives ending—of the very planet's obliteration—in that one devastating instant was ripping me apart."

Ana knew what had just happened.

Somewhere, somehow, Alderaan had happened again.

What had the First Order done?

It was then that others began to take notice of Ana's distress. Across the display, Poe's brow furrowed with alarm as his own eyes fell on her, having followed the General's gaze to where it fixed on his fellow Commander. Ana felt a hand on her shoulder, distantly hearing Snap's worried voice even as the draft that seemed to be running through the entire Command Centre brushed across her cheek again; funny, it felt almost…consoling. She must be losing her mind.

"You okay, Commander?" Snap asked, "you're white as a sheet." Forcing herself to breathe, Ana straightened, shooting him a faint reassuring glance and somehow managing to make the expression convincing. She couldn't quite manage to speak, though.

"You have a go, Commander," Leia's authoritative voice spoke up. Ana wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, but she sure caught the tremor in her Aunt's voice. His attention drawn back to the General, Poe nodded sharply before looking around to his fellow pilots.

"Alright, people. You heard General Organa. Let's get on our way."

It was nearly chaotic as the pilots streamed out of the Command Centre, driven by a sudden sense of urgency thanks to the General's unsettling moment of affliction. Poe particularly looked troubled, his face drawn and closed off. Ana suspected that, since she'd heard it partway around the display, the Commander had certainly been close enough to overhear what it was that Leia said to Statura, and the uneasy look on his face confirmed that for her. Like her, Poe would have had some idea what had just happened, though in his case from what he'd overheard; he was, after all, one of the few who seemed to know Leia was Force sensitive, so he knew to take the General's  _feeling_  seriously.

All the squadron commanders had been briefed on the rumours about the First Order's new weapon. Ana just hadn't entirely believed they were true; she'd been suspecting it was little more than exaggerated and deliberate misinformation on the part of the First Order, to hide what they were really up to. The rumours had seemed far too absurd to be real.

Well, there was no denying their veracity now. Something hard and cold and anxious formed in the pit of her stomach at the thought.

As she made her own way to her fighter, Ana couldn't help but overhear the anxious chatter among the personnel on the landing pad about the General's strange episode. Even more troubling, there was word going around that reports were beginning to trickle in from a handful of contacts in other parts of the Galaxy about blazing red streak that had cut across the sky. It didn't take Ana much to figure out what it had been, but few others were able to make the same conclusions.

After checking that N3 was securely up in his socket, Ana mounted the ladder of her red-painted fighter, hitting the canopy's control before she was even strapped in. N3 already had the primary systems warming up as Ana donned her helmet, checking on the comm connection and giving her fighter's tech a thumbs up as he finished his own last minute checks.

As she glanced around at the other fighters, she caught a glimpse of Poe hopping into his own X-wing. As though sensing her attention he paused, looking over to her. Though too far away to get a proper read on his expression, Ana nevertheless got the impression that he was still concerned about her strange reaction in the situation room.

But, after a moment, he shot her an exaggerated salute; a gesture she returned by gunning her primary drives. Around her, the others in the squadron were performing their comm checks, the channel filled with the usual friendly, taunting banter that almost always preceded a mission.

But just as she was about to lift off, Ana caught sight of the General and a small contingent of ground troops making their way toward the portion of the landing pad complex set aside for the troop transports. Her Aunt paused, looking up to Ana where she sat ready to go. Leia, unlike Poe, was close enough that Ana could see exactly how concerned the older woman looked.

"Alright. Blue Squadron, Red? Let's get on our way," Poe's tone was brisk, but it was evident to all that what General Organa had said to Admiral Statura had shaken him. Though to be fair, it had shaken everyone even if few others knew what her vague statement meant. "We've got the General riding along with us, so let's put on a good show." Ana was so anxious to be gone that, almost the instant Poe gave the order to lift off, her fighter was in the air. She was also the first one to breach the atmosphere. She had to hold herself back to wait for the rest of the squadron to form up for the jump to lightspeed.

The trip through hyperspace before a mission was usually a quiet time, with each of the pilots getting themselves into the proper mindset for whatever task lay ahead. It wasn't often that comms were used save to relay a change in orders or new instruction. This time was different. Ana jerked as a faint burst of static resonated through the earpiece in her helmet, startling her from her jumbled thoughts. She tended to let her thoughts run rampant and chaotic right before a mission, as though letting out a sort of mental nervous energy, before pushing them firmly aside so she could focus solely on the mission itself.

"Black Leader, Blue Squadron, Red Squadron, this is General Organa," came Leia's voice over the comm not long into the jump. Ana couldn't help but sit straighter in her seat. She could tell from the almost heartbroken tone of her Aunt's voice what this was about. "Reports have come in regarding an odd red beam that was sighted not long ago in the sky above several planets in parts of the Galaxy."

"We copy, General. What's the news?" It was hard to tell over the comm channel, especially with the interference that came from being in hyperspace, but Ana thought Poe's voice sounded particularly strained, like he was dreading hearing something he already suspected confirmed. Ana intimately understood that feeling. She didn't need to hear what the beam was.

She needed to hear which planet had been destroyed.

"It appears—" the General's voice shook for a moment, and not from the interference, before steadying, "It appears that the First Order has used the weapon they were rumoured to be building to att—to attack the Hosnian system." The comm channel had been quiet before, but there was a tangibility to the silence now as Leia relayed the report, like the weight of the news was pressing through the comm itself. Ana felt like she was going to be sick. "Sensors and preliminary reports indicate every planet in the system was catastrophically destroyed." No one gasped or commented, no one voiced any denial or outrage. The news was too monumental for anything save horrified silence. Ana could hardly breathe: a whole system. Gone.

"The Republic, the Senate, the Fleet…the planets themselves. All gone. There's nothing left," Leia continued, her voice heavy and disbelieving before she too fell silent. What this meant was left unsaid.

The First Order had officially declared war.

And with the Republic gone?

The Resistance was now the Galaxy's only hope.


	12. Chapter 11

"Alright, here we go," came Poe's voice over the comm, "Looks like the First Order's already here and making a mess planetside. Let's show them who they're up against!" Ana couldn't help but grin in grim agreement at his fervor. They had dropped out of hyperspace far enough away from Takodana that the First Order presence on the planet wasn't likely to be able to pick them up on sensors. "Red Group, Blue Group; follow my lead. We're going in low and fast to keep from spooking them."

Just as impatient to engage the TIE squadron already wreaking havoc on the planet below, Ana positioned her fighter tight on Poe's starboard wing as he went straight for the planet, curving down and in through the atmosphere well out of the First Order's sensor range so that they were soon approaching the coordinates of Maz's establishment from the vector Ana had suggested during the briefing. Behind the two commanders, the rest of the mingled squadron followed just as close and just as eager. They were all still shaken by the news about the Hosnian system, and they were all more than ready to repurpose their horror and disbelief into driving back this attack on Takodana.

As they drew closer to their target, the mingled squads jockeyed themselves into position, forming a rough line across the breadth of the inlet, walls of water thrown up behind them by their passage so close to the sparkling surface of the lake. Ana smirked, knowing the instant their opponents realized they were coming; the almost lazy passes the TIE fighters were making over Maz's Palace suddenly appeared to reorganize into more intent formations.

"They know we're here," Poe finally said, obviously noticing the same cues that they'd been spotted as Ana had, "deflectors up; ready your blasters." Ana happily obeyed, easing her throttle forward to keep pace with him as he drew ahead, priming her blasters almost as soon as the words broadcast through the comm.

"Lock S-foils," she said, adding her order to Black Leader's, flicking the control even as she said it. Just to her right, the black and orange S-foils of Poe's fighter spread while to her left she caught a glimpse of Red Three's doing the same a moment later. Ana's heart was beginning to thrum in her chest. This was what she lived for. She inhaled slowly as adrenaline coursed through her body, letting everything disappear from her thoughts save the sensation of her fighter humming around her, the controls thrumming beneath her gloved fingers, the squadron at her back and the TIE fighters dead ahead. A smile rose to her lips before she could stop it.

"Go straight at 'em; don't let these thugs scare you," came Poe's voice again, sounding nearly distant as Ana's attention narrowed solely on the TIE fighters.

"Copy that," answered Jess Pava, followed by a, "we're with you, Poe," from Snap.

Maz's establishment up ahead was in ruins and TIE fighters were buzzing around the smoldering rubble like flies. She could also pick out the white spots creeping about that rubble that indicated a whole lot of troops on the ground. Well, they were about to do something about that.

As Maz's Palace came up fast, Ana eased the throttle further still, letting her X-wing pull up to run just above Poe's as the first of the TIEs started angling around to meet them.

Then she was slamming her throttle forward and ducking right, her instincts surging to the fore as she sped under Red Three and around to come up right on a TIE's tail as she flew over Maz's Palace. In seconds she had clipped the starboard solar array, sending the enemy fighter careening into the ground. Around her, X-wings and TIEs had fully engaged each other, the fighting quickly growing chaotic.

But it was as Ana was swinging around back toward the Lake again that she spotted something through the trees that momentarily distracted her. Her heart skipped happily as she recognized a ship she hadn't seen in years, one that she was afraid had been lost for good.

"Uh, Command? I have a visual on the  _Millennium_   _Falcon_."

"You sure about that, Red Leader?" Ana nearly snorted in amusement as she gunned her thrusters, the ground falling away behind her as she drew her attention back to the engagement.

"I'd recognize her anywhere." Ana smiled widely as she swung around again, trailing another TIE that seemed to make a break for the atmosphere before diving down to the ground in effort to shake her. She easily followed his curving arc back toward Maz's. Another volley and he was nothing more than a fireball that Ana dashed through, her sharp eyes skimming the ground. There were troopers everywhere, firing at any X-wings that dipped too close, not that they were doing a whole lot of damage to any of the ships.

And then she saw them; a rather familiar looking duo flashing by beneath her amid a contingent of Stormtroopers.

"Blasters to single shot, N3," she said to her flight companion, flicking a few switches and adjusting her fighter's settings as she did. Pulling up and around to the lake again, she set herself up for a slow pass just as Red Seven, Blue Four and Blue Three bombarded the wall a group of Stormtroopers were using for cover, sending the troopers and chunks of rock flying. Before the cloud of dust and debris had a chance to dissipate she was through it and firing nearly on instinct, each shot taking out individual troopers surrounding her Uncle and his co-pilot. Over the comm she heard a whoop from Bastian as Asty barked out his disbelief that she could manage that sort of precision with a starfighter.

"I thought you didn't like to show off, Red Leader," she heard Pava tease. Ana could swear she heard Poe laughing.

"I wasn't. Can't everyone do that?" Ana retorted impishly.

"Naw, you were showing off, Adyé." this time it was Poe taunting. Ana grinned, pulling her fighter around sharply again, causing a trailing TIE to overshoot her.

"You're one to talk, Dameron," she said back, "I don't think you know how to do anything else."

"Don't you know it!" As though her banter had been a dare, he dumped his black X-wing into a neat but shallow dive, pulling up just in time to catch a pair of unfortunate TIEs perfectly in his sights before pulling up again into a set of sharp, complex turns and twists dangerously low over the ruins of Maz's Palace, taking out more TIEs as he went and even strafing the ground a bit. It was then that he finally pulled up into open air again only to down another three enemy fighters as he dashed past Ana with an ecstatic whoop. Given that rolling her eyes would be unwise in the present situation, she settled for grinning exasperatedly, jerking her fighter into a sudden dive that landed the TIE following her right into Blue Three's path. As she pulled up to avoid hitting the lake's surface and angled around for another pass over Maz' place, she spotted four TIEs incoming toward her, giving her an idea. Why couldn't she have a little fun too?

"You want to show off, Black Leader? You're not the only one who can do that," she baited into the comm before slamming the throttle forward, gunning straight for the TIEs. In seconds she was on them and then over them without firing a shot, causing their formation to fall apart in confusion. She then threw her fighter into the move she'd been perfecting for years that no one, not even Dameron, had quite been able to mimic, especially not with gravity to further complicate the entire maneuver.

"N3, surge the power on the reverse thrusters; standby." With that, she killed her thrust for a split-second, rolling her fighter into a twisting upward turn that, in a heartbeat, had her completely turned around and set square on the TIE fighters' tails as she leveled off and dove. Nearly giggling at how perfectly it had worked, she made short work on the enemy fighters, taking out three and neatly herding the fourth into Red Four's sights, something Bastian took full advantage of, before swinging around to take care of the two additional fighters that had appeared to back up their comrades and ducking down to take care of one of the AALs on the ground a group of Stormtroopers was taking cover behind, sending a fireball billowing into the air.

Around her more pilots whooped, and Ana couldn't help the smile that nearly split her face at Poe's exclamation.

"You're crazy, Adyé!"

"That's probably why it works!" she quipped back.

There was little doubt that, even though the TIEs were technically faster, the First Order fighters were seriously outclassed in this engagement. It didn't take long for it to become clear it was a rout, the Resistance fighters inflicting devastating losses on the First Order forces despite being outnumbered. The TIEs' speed counted for little in such close quarters so close to the planet's surface, while Poe's observation during the briefing that a TIE's manoeuvrability was greatly diminished in-atmosphere proved disastrously true.

For them, at least.

It wasn't long before the remaining TIEs were scattering and even outright fleeing the engagement, barely bothering to fight back.

It was then that Ana eased back, satisfied that there were plenty of their own fighters to handle the remaining TIE fighters without her actively engaging them anymore. Instead, calling on Red Three and Blue Seven to form up behind her, she drew back to run cover over the remains of Maz's Palace, the three of them keeping the TIEs from any more strafing runs and running a few strafing runs of their own against the rather stubborn Stormtroopers, taking out a second AAL as they did once it became clear the Stormtroopers were beginning to pull out.

And then she saw him.

Somehow she knew the dark figure striding purposefully toward the dark First Order shuttle was Kylo Ren. For a moment it felt like her heart had seized in her chest, bile rising up her throat to choke her. It was the first time she'd seen him since that horrible night.

And she was flying right toward him.

She had a shot; she could take it and end this, end the hurt and heartache suddenly surging through her, making it feel like shards of ice were spearing through her veins. She felt her skin grow cold, a prickling sweat breaking out beneath her flightsuit as her instincts were suddenly warring with her feelings over whether to take the shot or to not. Poe had told her Ren could stop a regular blaster bolt in mid-air with a gesture. But could he stop a starship's blaster? A torpedo?

Her finger hovered over the trigger.

Her attention was fixed solely on Kylo Ren, the knowledge of everything he'd done—everything he'd done to her—surging like an inferno to the forefront of her mind, vivid and searing. She barely even registered that he was carrying something—someone—an unconscious girl dressed in sandy-hued clothing. Every instinct she had screamed at her not to fire, to take her finger off the trigger. She fought it, feeling the trigger beginning to depress under her glove. But the impulse—the  _warning_ —to hold her fire was too strong.

With a hoarse, frustrated cry she yanked up on the stick, pulling her X-wing into a spiralling climb, not caring that she was breaking the very formation she had ordered her current wingmates to fall into, not caring that she nearly collided with one of the lingering TIE fighters.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't bring herself to kill him.

She hated the relief that surged through her at the realization. It was so powerful, her skin seemed tingle with it.

As her fighter leveled out, Red Three and Blue Seven fell back in beside her, but she barely noticed them asking her what had happened, muttering out some half-hearted excuse that could have been complete gibberish for all she knew. They evidently bought whatever she said, because neither of them questioned her further.

In moments the First Order shuttle had lifted off and it and its remaining escort of TIE fighters were retreating.

It was all over.

* * *


	13. Chapter 12

It had easily been a successful mission. It arguably hadn't even been a battle; more of a skirmish, really. But regardless of what they ultimately decided to classify the encounter as, the Resistance had definitively won the day at Takodana.

A few of their fighters had taken damage, but nothing crippling or bad enough to prevent the jump back to Base. The First Order compliment, though, had been decimated. There was wreckage everywhere, the smoldering carcasses of TIE fighters strewn across the ground below their aerial battlefield. With their opponents having surrendered the field to the Resistance fighters, the squadron broke into smaller groups, running cover over the remains of Maz's establishment, not that there was anything to provide cover against. But there was little point in any of the fighters landing, though that didn't stop Ana and Poe from asking if it was necessary.

So they just continued to run formations overhead, waiting patiently for the General to give the order to return to Base. It gave Ana more than enough time to rebury everything seeing that tall, black-clad figure had dredged up. Bizarrely enough, the faint warmth that had accompanied her relief helped, and for once, she was far too grateful to question why.

She didn't care just then, so long as she stopped feeling so damn much.

Finally, after less than an hour securing the remnants of Maz's Palace, the General indicated their mission complete and ordered their return to D'Qar, the Troop Transport leading the way with Poe falling in beside the General's ship. Ana, meanwhile, having somehow managed during their rather mindless passes following the battle to wrestle her emotions back under control, had no qualms placing herself next to the newest addition to their convoy.

As the fighters, Troop Transport and the  _Millennium_   _Falcon_  passed out of Takodana's atmosphere, Ana couldn't resist settling her fighter just off the  _Falcon_ 's front starboard quarter, giving her a perfect line of sight into the familiar cockpit.

Catching sight of her himself, she didn't miss the exaggerated salute her Uncle waved her way. Eagerly, she returned it just before the order was given to jump to lightspeed, a well of emotion suddenly developing deep in her chest.

Force, she had missed them.

The trip through hyperspace couldn't be over fast enough for Ana. She was more than happy to let her excitement at the prospect of seeing her Uncle and Chewie again drown out the conflicting and unsettled emotions she'd been fighting since Jakku, especially since spotting Kylo Ren on Takodana had only intensified the emotional turmoil that had suddenly reemerged from where she'd managed to bury it for so many years.

No matter that it was a short trip, it felt like a lifetime before Ana was setting her red fighter back onto the landing pad on the Base. The ship was barely settled and powering down before Ana had popped the hatch, shucking her restraints as though they were burning her.

Hopping down from the ladder, Ana was immediately looking toward the  _Falcon_ , hoping to see her Uncle. It had been years, and she was eager to see him again. Heck, the last time she'd seen them? She'd been flying with Reem for a barely a couple standard months, and her uncle had wanted to see how she was adjusting.

And to let her know that the  _Falcon_  was missing…

Regardless of the fact that she'd chosen to stay on with Reem instead of rejoining Han and Chewie again,  _Falcon_  or no, she still missed her Uncle and his co-pilot dearly, sometimes almost longing to go back to the days she'd spent working with them. She was not about to pass up on the chance to see either of them again.

Especially now that they had the  _Falcon_  back. That was a relief in and of itself. She couldn't help but look forward to walking the corridors of the old girl, again, not after fearing that her uncle's beloved ship had been lost forever.

But her attention was drawn instead by the sight of Poe rushing up to embrace a dark-skinned young man…who was wearing Poe's jacket? Ana found herself frowning a bit in puzzlement. BB-8 was hovering anxiously at their feet…that was certainly odd.

Then it hit Ana; this must be the Stormtrooper Poe had been talking about, the one the General's report had said was last seen with BB-8. The young man looked worried and anxious himself, while Poe seemed to be listening intently as he spoke.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Ana immediately changed her course, heading to meet up with them instead of continuing on to the  _Falcon_. BB-8 was the first to notice her approach, burbling happily to see her before his tone turned fretful. Ana frowned…who was Rey?

"Who's this, Dameron," she asked casually. Poe bit back a smile before turning to Ana.

"Adyé, this is Finn, the Stormtrooper who helped me escape and helped BB-8 get back to the Resistance. He saved my life, deserting the First Order to do it." The former trooper looked on the verge of blushing at Poe's glowing introduction. Ana couldn't help but smile, honestly impressed.

"Welcome to the club," she said with a wry grin, jerking a nod to Poe, "that seems to happen a lot with this one." Poe harrumphed around his laughing smile while Finn actually did blush, his cheeks darkening adorably, stammering a little that it was the right thing, or at least, that what Ana thought he said. Holding back a bemused smile, she turned to Poe, "but why is he wearing your jacket?" The Stormtrooper looked at her, startled, his expressive eyes wide with anxiety and a hint of bewilderment.

"I offered to give it back," the young man said timidly, his flush intensifying as he began to shuffle nervously. Poe was near to laughing at the innocence of the former trooper's reactions. Ana bit back a giggle herself, looking back to the young man. He was obviously rather unused to the attention, and didn't quite seem to realize they were teasing each other. She gave him another once-over, earning an almost wary look from the former Stormtrooper.

"You know, Finn? I think it looks better on you."

"Hey!" Poe exclaimed, his eyes snapping to Ana as an expression of indignation bloomed on his face. Ana couldn't help but giggle for real at the affronted look. "You always said you liked that jacket. And I always thought I looked rather dashing in it." She purposefully shrugged with indifference, causing him to scoff at her, barely able to hide his grin of amusement. Finn, though still self-conscious, relaxed as the attention shifted away from him and what he had done for Poe and the Resistance…and that he was wearing Poe's jacket. But he suddenly remembered what he'd been talking about as Ana had walked up, his blush fading quickly. He turned back to Poe, his eyes going grave again.

"Dameron, please; my friend…I need to help Rey." Poe nodded sharply, his own expression turning serious again. Ana suddenly felt her skin going cold. The girl.

"Kylo Ren took her," she heard herself say, her voice sounding odd even to her ears. Finn nodded emphatically, as though it had been a question. Poe's eyes turned to Ana, his sudden questioning gaze lingering on her at her tone. After a second, she managed to compose herself, nodding sharply as well.

"You should talk to the General immediately; she'll have gone down to the Command Centre. This way." Ana gestured for them both to come with her. She barely bothered to make sure that they were following her, all but rushing down the main stairs to the control room, where she'd heard Leia being requested to report to only a few moments before she'd caught sight of Poe and Finn.

"General," Ana called out almost as soon as she saw her Aunt, totally unconcerned that she was interrupting. An odd urgency had taken up residence within her. Poe was a little more diplomatic, pausing behind the General where she stood with Admirals Ackbar and Statura, a few other Resistance personnel arrayed around them.

"General Organa. Sorry to interrupt; this is Finn," Poe gestured absently to where the young man stood beside him, looking almost in awe of the General, "he needs to talk to you—" Leia turned to Finn and, to his credit, he didn't flinch under the former Senator's sudden and intent notice. Leia didn't let the Commander finish, her whole attention on Finn, who suddenly looked very surprised.

"And I need to talk to him," she said, genuine admiration in her voice. "That was incredibly brave, what you did. Renouncing the First Order, saving this man's life—" Finn turned serious then, his surprise forgotten as he met Leia's eyes with desperate determination.

"Thank you, ma'am, but a friend of mine was taken prisoner—" Leia gave him a sympathetic smile as she cut him off, but there was a reserve in her eyes, especially when her warm gaze flicked for a split-second to Ana. The younger woman started, the inexplicable unease growing in her belly churning.

"Han told me about the girl. I'm sorry—" Leia's voice was so careful, so measured that Ana knew something else was going on, something about this girl.

Before she could stop herself, she was interrupting. "General, we have to help her," she blurted out. Finn, already looking startled that Leia had known about Rey, looked to Ana in bewilderment, as did Poe. "She was taken by Kylo Ren," Ana managed to choke out. Leia, oddly enough, did not look surprised, though her face grew pale and drawn. But her gaze was searching, her eyes faintly narrowed as she looked to Ana.

What aren't you telling me, Ana wondered silently.

I can't tell you, her Aunt's eyes seemed to say, as though seeing the question written on Ana's face.

"Finn's familiar with the weapon that destroyed the Hosnian system. He worked on the Base," Poe broke in, diffusing the sudden tension growing between the General and his fellow squadron commander, though he kept glancing to Ana with concern. Leia seemed to jerk away from watching Ana, her expression suddenly intently interested as she turned back to Finn.

"We're desperate for anything you can tell us," she said. Finn nodded.

"That's where my friend was taken—I've got to get there, fast."

"And I will do everything I can to help," Leia assured him, "but first you must tell us all you know." Nodding again, more vigorously this time, Finn was quickly led away to one of the tactical stations by Poe and Statura, followed quickly by Snap. Before Leia could follow, though, Ana's hand had shot out, touching her Aunt briefly on the arm to hold her back.

"What do you know?" She asked, her voice low but urgent.

"Ana—"

"No, Aunt Leia; you know something about this girl that you don't want to tell me. What is it?" Leia's surprise flashed across her face, instantly realizing precisely how shaken Ana was that she would risk revealing their familial connection after hiding it so carefully for so long. The General glanced distractedly over to where the Stormtrooper was getting started on sharing his intel, avoiding Ana's gaze. "What aren't you telling me?" Ana pressed when her Aunt didn't answer immediately. Leia pursed her lips for a moment, her mind working quickly. It was an expression that only caused Ana's frown to deepen further.

"We believe she's Force-sensitive," Leia finally said quietly, "and that that's why he took her." Ana's mouth parted in surprise, but before she could say anything, Statura was calling the General away and Leia took full advantage of the opportunity to avoid Ana's inevitable recovery from her astonishment, turning away, a faint breeze brushing past Ana as she did.

Ana could only watch her Aunt's retreating back with lost bewilderment, not quite understanding what just happened.


	14. Chapter 13

Ana couldn't speak as Leia retreated to join the small group currently huddled around Finn, needing a moment to recover from the shock of precisely what her Aunt had said. Frustration suddenly coursing through her, Ana couldn't help but storm off herself, intending to head deeper into the Base, tugging her life-support unit irritably off her flightsuit as she went. It was a low trick, Leia throwing out that the girl might be a Force-user in order to distract her—that it had worked was beside the point—but Ana could tell there was still more to it than that; something that Leia didn't want to talk about. She barely made it halfway across the room before a voice calling her stopped Ana in her tracks, banishing all thought of the girl from her mind.

"So, they finally let you up in a fighter, did they?" Ana smiled at the familiar voice, no matter that it was more gravelly than she remembered, "that was some nice flying, Kid." She looked up to see her Uncle grinning crookedly back at her, "but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, should I." He caught up to her, an arm encircling her shoulder in a loose hug. She returned the gesture, squeezing an arm around his waist before pulling away. She shrugged lightly as she continued walking, Han falling into step beside her.

"Ah, it was nothing. Just a trick some old smuggler taught me." She grinned cheekily up at him. He made a face, but the grin tugging at the side of his mouth betrayed his pride.

"I've never seen that move used in an X-wing before. Well done." Ana couldn't help but bask in his impressed praise. When it came to things like flying, Han rarely minced words.

"Well, it took a little bit of work to figure out, but it was so worth it," she couldn't help but boast. Han chuckled before looking down at her.

"So…how're ya' keeping?" he asked quietly, though he tried to keep his voice light. His hand landed heavily on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes had turned serious.

Abruptly she knew what he meant by the question. Her pace faltered, her grip tightening on the FreiTek unit in her hands. Han paused next to her. Ana shrugged again, trying to keep up the cheerful demeanor. It didn't entirely work. He knew she'd seen Kylo Ren just as he had. The Base was already buzzing that the mysterious masked First Order agent had been on Takodana. He knew her well enough to know that seeing him again would have gotten to her, bringing back every painful emotion and memory she tried to bury since that awful night.

"Well enough," she answered, desperate to change the subject, "you? I noticed you got the  _Falcon_  back." It helped. Han grinned happily before the grumpy scowl took over. Ana frowned herself, though it didn't quite dim her own smile. He dropped his hand, starting forward again, Ana following beside him as the mood lightened.

"Yeah, I got her back—she was on Jakku, of all places; sounds like Unkar Plutt stole her off the Irving boys who stole her off Ducain—but she's been neglected and mistreated, poor old girl. Some idiot got the bright idea to give her some new mods. Someone's done something that lights the  _Falcon_  up like spotlight on even civilian-grade scanners; a beacon or locator or something when the sublights are running. And a fuel pump! Who puts in a fuel pump? Whoever worked her over made an outright mess. I mean, who in their right mind would put a compressor on the ignition line?!" Ana nearly growled herself, genuinely outraged at the idea.

"What kind of moron…that'd put too much pressure on the hyperdrive," she blurted out before she could help herself, "what were they trying to do, scatter pieces of her across two systems?" Han's sullen expression showed that he very much agreed with her. He then shot her another grin, though this one she couldn't quite decipher.

"You know, you're not the only one to say that," he said. Ana scoffed.

"Well, anyone with even a basic understanding of hyperdrive systems, especially ones like the  _Falcon_ 's, should be able to figure that out," she seethed. He chuckled at her fervent assertion.

"Yeah, well, not everyone has your sense, it seems," he soothed, "or your experience with her." She nodded, happily ceding that he was right about that. Then she turned to him with a cheeky grin.

"So, what this I've heard about you falling back on smuggling full time?"

"You've been talking to Reem, haven't you," he grumbled, earning an impish chuckle, before launching into an abridged—and heavily edited and exaggerated, if she knew him at all—version of his last few adventures. Han was brought up short though, when Chewie's faintly amused voice broke in behind them, lightheartedly correcting his old friend on a point or two. Unable to help smiling widely, Ana accepted the wookiee's proffered hug, having missed burrowing into his warm, albeit hairy, embrace. It had been one of her favourite things to do since she was a kid; Chewie just knew how to give good hugs. As she pulled away, though, she noticed his right arm was bound with a crude bandage.

"Did Uncle Han get you shot at again?" His chuffing laughter broke up his account of what happened between them, KanjiKlub and the Guavian Death Gang—something that Han had most certainly glossed over—and brought an indignant look to Han's face. It also earned them both a reprimanding look from Ana. She narrowed her eyes at her Uncle.

"You two are going to get yourselves killed, you know that, right?" she said reprovingly as Chewie's story wrapped up. Ana peered at her Uncle; he looked entirely too relieved that Chewie was done telling her about their most recent daring escape. The wookiee had left something out. Her Uncle shot her his crooked smile. Yup. Hiding something. Probably something he didn't want getting back to Leia.

"Hey, I always get us out of those sorts of messes," Han said with his unwavering sense of confidence before Chewie contradicted dryly, bringing back Han's indignant look, "do so!" All that earned the old smuggler was a barking admonishment that suddenly had Ana's eyes going wide as she turned sharply to her Uncle. Han, at least, had the decency to look abashed when he realized he'd been caught out.

"Woah, woah! Rathtars?! Are you insane?!" she burst out. Han shrugged, that cocky smile attempting to make an appearance. Well, it wasn't quite so confident under Ana's incredulous scrutiny.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time…" he said defensively. Ana whirled around to Chewie, the wookiee wisely flinching in the face of her forceful glare.

"And you went along with this?" Chewie also had the sense to look contrite, before muttering that it was Han's idea and he figured he had little choice but to go along with it to keep Han from getting himself killed. Han shot his co-pilot an accusing look.

"Traitor," he muttered. Chewie threw his own insult at Han before sulking off to get his arm looked after. Ana was nearly tempted to roll her eyes.

Instead she threw up her hands in exasperation: "you're insane! Both of you!" Suddenly the crooked smile was back. Ana made an exasperated sound to hide her chuckle, starting again on her path through the Command Centre.

"It's part of our charm, Kid," Han said cheerily as he fell into step beside her. This time Ana did roll her eyes, poorly restraining the resurgent urge to laugh, causing her Uncle's smile to widen as he continued. "It's served us well so far."

As her uncle spoke, Ana and Han passed by Poe, who was standing with the Finn, Admiral Statura, Snap…and General Organa. Han's eye was immediately drawn to his wife, something Ana didn't fail to notice. All of them were listening intently as the former Stormtrooper spoke, looking over the coordinates he seemed to be punching into the tactical display; the location to the First Order's new weapon, most likely, Ana mused. Even as they passed, Snap was nodding to the General and ducking away after taking one last look at the coordinates; off on a recon mission, she imagined.

As her eyes flicked to Poe, his own gaze met hers, a faint, mischievous grin playing about his lips even as he turned his attention back to the display. As she and Han passed, she couldn't help but steal a quick glance over her shoulder, fighting back a grin of her own when he did the same.

"So, how long has that been going on?" Ana started, jerking her eyes away from the Commander. She could feel her cheeks warming. She hazarded a look at her Uncle. There was an amused glint in his eye as he looked down at her.

"How long has what been going on?" Han raised a skeptical eyebrow at her attempt at ignorance. Ana tried to look unaffected…it didn't work. Han gestured back behind him in Poe's general direction with a thumb.

"You and that Hotshot back there." Ana struggled against the urge to nervously clear her throat.

"What? I'm sure I have no idea what you're on about," she said casually, pasting a guileless smile on her face. Han was abruptly trying not to laugh.

"Nice try, Kid. But even if I didn't recognize the look on your face, I'd recognize the one on his." He paused, his demeanor shifting. Ana stopped avoiding his gaze, looking up into her Uncle's thoughtful expression.

"You know, your mom always got that same look you just had when she looked at your father," he grinned nostalgically then, the expression almost but not quite sad. "You've got a lot of her in you, you know. Back there? With Chewie about the Rathtars? I remember her giving us that exact same scolding look a hundred times over," he said with laughter in his voice at the memory. A smile tried to pull at her lips, but the tremoring pain in her chest chased it away. She remembered. Ana couldn't help it, and at once her shoulders were tensing and the playfulness she felt bantering with the old smuggler began to fade. The edge of her life-support unit was digging almost painfully into her hand, the corner stabbing into her opposite palm.

"Hey," Han's hand landed on her shoulder, pulling her to a stop as he drew her around to look at him, "I know you don't like to talk about her, or about—" he faltered, his voice growing rough and pained. Ana's chest clenched, her eyes traitorously beginning to blur. She knew exactly what he couldn't say. But he cleared his throat and pressed on. "And I know you really don't like talking about Luke, but you can't go trying to pretend they didn't exist, either." Ana clenched her jaw, biting back the series of impulsive retorts that part of her longed to fire back at him…including that he sounded like Reem. She dropped her gaze, focusing on an oil spot on the duracrete floor to avoid showing him the turmoil she knew would likely be in her eyes. Slowly, her agitation bled out of her, leaving her feeling only tired.

"It still hurts too much, Uncle Han," she finally whispered back, unable to manage anything louder. She looked up at him as he reached out to gently brush back a strand of hair that had escaped in the gentle draft wafting past her. A sympathetic look had appeared on his rugged face. She hadn't realized until that moment just how the years and the guilt and grief had aged him.

"I know, Kid. Don't I know it," he answered back, his voice little more than a low rumble as he laid his hand briefly against her face. After a moment he cleared his throat, his gaze wandering again to Leia. Despite the low mood that had suddenly overtaken Ana, she couldn't help but smile. There was no doubting her Aunt and Uncle still loved each other deeply. Somehow, that cheered and reassured her more than just about anything Han could have said. It was something stable and familiar that never changed even though they'd gone their separate ways. His hand clapped on her shoulder again, as though he'd thought about saying something but changed his mind. He glanced down at Ana, but he barely seemed to see her and he was soon looking back to his wife. Ana could tell from his look alone that he wanted to talk to Leia badly, but was anxious to do so. She bit back an affectionately exasperated grin.

"Go talk to her," she said softly. Han looked down at her for real this time. She nodded in her Aunt's direction: "Go." He hesitated. Ana nearly scoffed at his reticence. "You obviously want to."

He made a noncommittal sound. "She's pretty busy with Resistance stuff; I probably shouldn't bother her right now. And I should really work on the  _Falcon_ ," he said, his nervous tone not convincing Ana in the slightest, "someone needs to find whatever's making it so easy to track her even when you're not looking for her." Ana crossed her arms, fixing him with a firm look. He drew back, looking faintly wary of the look she was giving him. Across the way, BB-8 was chortling something off to Threepio, sounding rather dejected, sincerely tempting Ana to distraction, but she maintained her position staring down her Uncle.

"Chewie should be just about finished with his arm, plus, if you're that concerned, I'll go take a look myself. I'm sure between me and Chewie we'll find whatever it is in no time. But you need to talk to her." He started to object, but Ana held up a silencing hand before pointing toward her Aunt. "Nah, go." Finding himself unable to argue, resignation settled over his features. Though he did give her a scowl for good measure.

"Just like your mother," he grumbled. But his eyes shone fondly.

Ignoring the shard of pain, she simply smiled sweetly back at him before turning and heading back up toward the landing pad, practically hearing him steel his nerve before he headed over to talk with his wife.

Only her Aunt Leia could get Han so nervous.

She couldn't hold back her chuckle at the thought.


	15. Chapter 14

Ana all but ran up the steps that led out of the Command Centre, unable to restrain the smile playing about her lips despite the painful tremor still lingering in her chest. There really wasn't much to be done for the moment. She suspected that a briefing would be called to discuss the First Order's new weapon, but if she had been right and Snap had left the Command Centre for a reconnaissance run, it was going to be a while; they weren't about to hold a briefing before the recon had returned. That would just be silly. So, why not spend some of her down time with the  _Falcon_? She had her comlink with her, tucked safely in its pouch on her belt. If Command needed her, they'd call.

Only to falter at the sound of her name just as she was stepping out onto the landing pad. And suddenly the excitement had faded to be replaced by a sudden wash of nerves. Poe had followed her. Of course he had. And given how he called after her to hold up, he knew she'd heard him.

"Hey," he said, curiosity glinting in his eyes as he fell into step beside her, "what was that all about back there." He gestured back toward the Command Centre with a tilt of his head. Ana forced a casual shrug, trying to keep her sudden panic in check.

"You'll have to be more specific," she quipped back with a grin. And it was true. There were any number of things he could be referring to…she was just hoping it was something she could answer easily…and quickly...without lying too much; there were a couple things she really didn't want to share just now. Poe gave her an odd look, as though considering asking something else before grinning, elbowing her arm lightly.

"You know what," he prompted with a wide grin, "how do you know him?" It took her a moment to realize what he meant, pausing to frown at him before it clicked. He might have admitted to her once that he counted Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles as personal heroes of his, but she knew he also held a great deal of admiration for Han Solo as well, his own father having served with Han during his days as a General. Poe had grown up on Kes Dameron's stories about the great General Han Solo just as he had about Skywalker and Princess Leia. It also meant he wasn't likely going to be appeased easily. She groaned internally, but pushed it aside quickly. Ana needed to be careful. She'd already let enough slip the last couple days because she'd let herself get too worked up. She couldn't afford anymore, she cautioned herself wearily, not unless she wanted to blow the rest of her secrets.

How had she never realized just how exhausting keeping her secrets was…

"Who, Solo? C'mon, Poe; you know I ran with a smuggling outfit for a time," she hedged quickly, pasting a casual grin on her face. "You're one of the few who know about my history with Reem, after all." She silently hoped that would be enough, that he would infer the rest. And that her teasing would throw him off her discomfort. She wasn't that lucky, though. Poe frowned, bewildered. Their pace had slowed until they finally stopped, coming to stand not far from Bastian's fighter.

"You know him from your days with Reem," he repeated, not sounding entirely convinced. Ana fought hard not to swallow nervously, tamping down her slowly building panic at being confronted about her vague history. This was why she'd preferred just not telling anyone anything…but at the same time, it was  _Poe_.

"Of course," she answered as offhandedly as she could, thinking fast; Poe could always seem to tell when she was lying…more than that, while she most definitely wasn't ready to share the whole truth, she didn't want to outright lie to him either.

He didn't deserve that.

"Reem and Solo know each other from back in the day; from the Rebellion, you know," she elaborated with a grin and a gesture she hoped would come across as nonchalant. "Around the time I joined up with Reem, they were working together in passing for a bit, back when Solo was easing back into the game." Poe's frown deepened as he processed her explanation. Her face fell, and Ana had to force herself to breathe. As he met her eye, her stomach lurched. He knew there was more. And judging by that particular expression on his face? He knew she knew it.

Before he could say anything, though, the panic deep in her chest welled up to the point where some of it slipped out.

"Just…leave it, please Poe?" It didn't only startle him to hear the near desperate plea in her voice, but it startled her too. But after a moment his frown returned, his expression turning shrewd and thoughtful.

"This is more of  _it_ , isn't it; whatever it is that you said you should be long over," he said, sounding like he'd just had a revelation of some sort. The pain was back, the blood draining from her face, and Ana was suddenly fighting the urge to back away from him. Especially at the sympathy in his voice. Once more the FreiTek unit was digging into her palms. But as the tremor grew stronger, she felt herself growing defensive, and her tongue invariably began to run away with her.

"Why does everyone want to talk about this all of a sudden," she muttered irritably to herself, preferring that to the tremoring grief—that's what it was, she realized—nestled beneath her breastbone. "First Reem, then Han, now you—" Poe jerked, the reaction causing her mouth to slam shut with a snap.

"Solo knows?" he broke in incredulously. But still, there was no real accusation. Just bewilderment. And hurt. Ana groaned, her face falling to her hand.

"Leave it, Poe," she snapped, though the bite was too weak to hide her sudden anguish. She heard Poe sigh heavily, and she could all but picture him slowly shaking his head, as he tried to figure her out. She felt his hand on her arm, and before she could even think to resist, he had steered her off and away from the landing pad, pulling them into a hollow that held one of the many sets of narrow stairs up to the top of the berms.

"None of it makes any sense, Ana," he said softly, his frustration clear in his voice. But there was no trace of accusation in his voice, Ana noticed with a jolt, her gaze snapping to his with bewilderment of her own. "I've learned more about your past in the last couple days than I think I have in the years we've been friends, and I thought I had already figured out a fair bit. I  _know_  you, I know I do, yet the more I find out, the more of a mystery you become. And from what little I've learned about where you came from? Your past? I know I'm missing something, something big, that would make it all make sense. Your turns of phrase when you're anxious? Your scars? The fact that you knew, you  _understood_  what I was feeling after everything I saw in Tuanul; you tense whenever Skywalker is mentioned—" as soon as he brought up her father, just as he called it, Ana was tensing, that horrible little flutter turning sharp, "—yes, just like that. Don't think I haven't noticed, Ana. Then I find out you flew not just with smugglers, but that you know Han Solo? That he knows things about you that you won't even tell me?

"C'mon, Ana," he cut her off angrily as she opened her mouth to object, weak as she knew her defense was likely to be even though not a word escaped, "I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I can tell there's more there just as I know that you're on more than just 'speaking terms' with the General." Ana's jaw clenched and she couldn't hold his intent gaze anymore. Especially not with the way her eyes were beginning to sting. But then his frustration seemed to melt away, his tense posture easing to one of resignation. And then his hands had come to rest on her arms, his thumbs rubbing absent arcs over her sleeves before dropping to her hands and gently working the life-support unit free from her clenched hands. Tucking it under his arm, his thumb started massaging over the sharp imprint left on her palm.

"One of these days you're going to be honest with me," he said then without looking up, sounding tired and hurt and, she realized sadly, worried more than anything else. "You're gonna have to let it out sometime, Ana. It's tearing you up inside," he added softly. "Don't think I can't see that. Whatever it is that you're keeping from me, from everyone? You've just…just buried it. But—" he faltered as he struggled to find the right words to say what he wanted to, "but how're you supposed to heal if you don't let it out?"

Her breath hitched, and of their own will, she felt her shoulders slump in misery. But as she opened her mouth to…to—she didn't even know what she'd been planning to say—his fingers stilled and he looked up to meet her gaze, shaking his head slowly.

"You don't have to, Ana," he said softly. "Whatever it is? It's obviously something that hurts too much to talk about. I know you well enough to see that clear as day. Believe it or not, I can accept that." It was only then that his tone turned faintly bitter. He let go of her hands, and held out the FreiTek unit. Automatically, Ana took it. "It's just…" he trailed off with a sound of frustration, his hand rising to massage the bridge of his nose before he started over. "I don't need to know," he said entreatingly before his tone turned nearly desperate, "not right now. I'd like to, but I need you to trust me more. To…to trust me with…you. Ana, you're not just my friend you're…" A startled breath hiccupped in her throat as her gaze snapped up to his. He hesitated, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "You're probably my best friend," he finally said, "and I hate seeing you like this."

She couldn't speak. She couldn't push the words up through her throat. She could only nod. Fervently. And deep in her chest the anxious, grief-fueled tremor began to fade as a small, persistent wash of relief began to flow through her. Poe sighed, seemingly satisfied as he reached up to brush a strand of her sandy-blond hair back from her face, his thumb lingering to brush against her cheek. A faint, warm breeze brushed past them then, caressing her other cheek, and Ana couldn't help but relax further at the sensation.

"So," he said then, a shadow of his usual grin appearing on his face, "we good?" Swallowing thickly, She forced a small smile to her own face. It was easier than she'd expected. His grin widened, and a small chuckle escaped him as he raised a brow at her. "Well, that got more serious than I'd expected. I was just hoping you could introduce me to General Solo." Ana scoffed at his cheeky remark.

"Not a General anymore, and you're on your own there, Dameron," she quipped back, her voice still faintly tremulous, though she managed to smirk as he laughed. It was then that his comlink chimed. Poe groaned.

"And they're wondering where I went," he muttered with mock exasperation, his eyes nevertheless laughing. Ana inhaled deeply, grasping his arm tightly in silent thanks. Poe's smirk shifted to a genuine grin and, before she could even react, he had leaned in to lay a chaste kiss on her cheek.

And then he was off, answering his comlink as he made his way back down into the Base. With a small smile of her own, and her frazzled nerves and emotions soothed just a bit by the gesture, Ana didn't linger either, resuming her course for the  _Falcon_.

Though, now more for the sake of refuge than for nostalgia as had been the case before Poe had waylaid her.

As she drew closer, the anxious tremor seemed to ease further. She wondered if part of her subconscious recognized she was finally about to return to one of her few real havens.

To something she considered  _home_.

Still, she hesitated at the base of the  _Falcon_ 's boarding ramp, not entirely believing that she was standing in front of it again. It was nearly surreal, especially after the last couple days she'd had.

Barely a couple months after she'd gone to work with Reem, rumours had begun circulating that Han didn't have the  _Falcon_  anymore. It had been a few months after she'd first heard those awful rumours before she'd seen her Uncle again, and he'd dejectedly confirmed that the rumours had indeed been true, that Ducain had managed to steal it from him. It had hit Ana hard, the  _Falcon_ coming to feel like the closest thing to home she'd had since… She hadn't been able to go with them, not without the  _Falcon_. It seemed such an irrational reason now, but then? Well, it had made sense to her then.

But that didn't mean Ana hadn't kept an ear and an eye out herself, just as the whispers that Han and Chewie had been looking for and asking after their beloved ship everywhere never ceased from the moment they lost her. And judging from the fact that Ana was a few steps away from boarding the ship she knew like an old friend? They hadn't given up until they found her.

Not that she'd ever doubted.

Ana sighed happily, her hand reaching out to rest on one of the ramp struts, as though reassuring herself that it was real and solid in front of her. The tension deep in her chest eased just a little bit more.

A large, hairy hand settled heavily on her shoulder, the whuffing chuckle accompanying it familiar and comforting. Turning to smile up at Chewie as he gestured her forward, Ana stepped onto the ramp.

It felt good to be back on the  _Falcon_. It had been far too long.

And for a moment, a wonderful, sweet moment, it felt like everything painful just melted away.

She wrinkled her nose though. It smelled different; it still had that scent that was distinctly the  _Falcon_ —a nose-tingling hint of fuel, the sharp tang of engine lubricant, a waft here and there of charred polymer, the unique scent that came from the  _Falcon_ 's air scrubbers, even a trace of musk that Ana had always associated with Chewie's fur—but there were also a few new scents that had Ana wrinkling her nose. Like one that, to Ana, seemed bitter and even a little putrid; it made her think a little bit of damp sand, really. And even though it still felt as though she'd been on it yesterday, as she walked through the ship, changes and mods jumped out at her as though a spotlight was fixed on them. Not all of them were awful—not that she'd ever tell Han that she mused as she caught sight of the referb-work on the quad-cannon gunwell. Was that a second bunk in the main crew compartment? Other mods had her shaking her head, huffing with irritation that someone would mess so carelessly with the delicate balance that kept the  _Falcon_  running. Like a fuel pump? Really?

Or a beacon? Ana's thoughts turned back to the task at hand. Han had mentioned there was something going on with the  _Falcon_ , and that it needed to be fixed.

Well? After the conversation she'd just had with Poe and the emotions still lingering like a shadow in the back of her mind from Takodana and before? She could use the distraction.

And hopefully the tinkering would do its magic this time.

Backtracking to the main crew compartment, she caught sight of Chewie huddled over the engineering station, flipping through diagnostic readouts.

"So what's this about some sort of beacon and the  _Falcon_  screaming 'look at me' to any sensor array in a system?" As Chewie went over everything he knew about the problem in a clipped, frustrated manner. Apparently it wasn't broadcasting that it was the  _Falcon_ , per se—Han and Chewie had recognized the readings in an instant given how unique a ship the  _Falcon_  had become thanks to them—suggesting it wasn't an intentional mod. Ana's mind cycled through possible explanations, considering and discarding ideas just as she did when considering tactics for missions. Almost as soon as he finished listing off what he knew, Ana was shucking her flakvest, tucking the top half of her flightsuit securely around her waist and stripping off her long-sleeved flight-gear compression tee. She then dumped the tee and vest on top of her FreiTek unit on the dejarik bench as she headed for the dorsal access hatch just before the crew quarters.

Only to hesitate for a split-second at the involuntary, mournful moan that escaped Chewie as she walked past him. At the sound her fingers were flying self-consciously to the tip of the shiny scar that stretched from just over her left hip up to where it brushed the base of her neck over her right collarbone. She was careful to always pick clothing that covered the scar she liked to forget about. No one knew about it—or how bad it was, really; a couple of the others in the Corps had caught glimpses of it above her collar during her time with them, but mercifully kept any questions to themselves as though sensing the horrific scar had an equally horrific story—save the few who had seen it during her recovery…and Poe. Her stomach flipped at the reminder. It was yet another thing she hadn't told him, and yet another thing he had said he'd wait for her to be ready to share…

She'd forgotten the light sleeveless top that she usually wore under her flight-gear dipped low over her chest when she'd stripped down to it, thinking only of keeping the flight-gear clean of engine grime. She fought the sudden painful urge to put the high-necked compression tee back on, to hide the scar from sight even if it meant ruining the shirt with grease and gunk.

But then she forcibly reminded herself that there was no one around to see it save Chewie, and he had known about it since it was still a fresh wound. Clenching her jaw at the impulse, she pointedly ignored the soft sound Chewie hadn't meant to make when he caught sight of it. She wasn't interested in thinking on that now.

Slipping around through the main crew space, she was up on top of the  _Falcon_  in no time, darting across the hull with practiced ease even though it had been years since she'd last set foot on the old freighter. She couldn't help but notice things that had been fiddled with or even outright changed—was that a new sensor housing? Oh, someone had finally replaced the jerry-rigged vent panel—that, when she had the time, she would be investigating further. As she reached the mandibles, zeroing in on the starboard one where the transponder circuitry was housed, she was completely focused on the puzzle at hand as she wrenched open the maintenance access hatch. She'd told Han she'd find the beacon problem, so that's what she was going to do. Best place to start looking? Transponder Circuitry, obviously.

Stretching out on her belly so she could reach down into the hatch, she was soon shimmying her way as far into the inner workings of the  _Falcon_  as she could manage. Ana frowned in concentration as she scanned for anything that could be the source of the mystery signal. If it was active only when the ship's primary engines were running, it stood to reason it was directly linked into the main power lines, which were right there…otherwise it would be broadcasting even when it was only the generators and auxiliary systems online, like right now, and it wasn't. The synchronizing communications adjunct? It could be a feedback problem if that was the case…

Even from outside the ship, she heard the sound of Chewie grumbling in frustration wafting up through the open hatch behind her and even through the wall of the maintenance bay she was wedged inside. The little part of her not wholly focused on her task was tempted to grin at the familiar string of curses coming from the wookiee.

Some things never changed. Shaking her head, she resettled her focus on the beacon.

Muttering to herself as she searched, running over possibilities in her head as she went, she had to actively force herself not to get distracted by the loose landing jet decompression housing she kept spying out of the corner of her eye. That wasn't important right now, she reminded herself.

It wasn't long before she settled on a transponder issue, given how the  _Falcon_  was showing up so prominently on even low-grade civilian scanners.

And for the first time in days, Ana felt genuinely…calm.

Kylo Ren, the First Order and the shadows of her past were all but silenced.

And even though she hung almost upside down in the cramped transponder circuitry access hatch, she finally felt like she could breathe. Even the sting of memory as her mother's pendant slipped free from beneath her shirt was dimmed, Ana barely giving it any thought before absently retucking the bi-coloured stone away; it was not helping things dangling in her face, after all. She wiggled a little further forward, not even truly minding the way one of the circuitry housings dug into her shoulder blade.

Maybe, whatever it was, was somehow boosting and possibly corrupting the ship's regular transpon—wait—there it was, right where she should have suspected; on the old IFF transponder circuitry. Suddenly it all made sense. Someone had probably tried to reprogram the transponder but, when that proved more than they could handle, ended up just trying bypass the old one instead…and did a pretty poor job of it at that. It wasn't even a proper transponder, just a handmade approximation meant to try modify the real one. They were probably hoping to eventually figure out how to reprogram the far better Imperial tech transponder, she mused to herself as she examined the work…that's why Han had upgraded to the IFF one in the first place before Ana had even been born. She grinned happily. Well, that hadn't been too hard to figure out…not like the fuel-pump mod; that was going to be a headache to undo.

"Chewie," she called out, shifting to try and get a better look at the hotwired installation, "Chewie, I found it!" It was badly hotwired, too; that was probably part of the problem. She wrinkled her nose at the shoddy work as she inspected it, poking and prodding at the connections to get a better idea of how they were tied in; it was so bad that a small, sharp tug was all it took and the link tying it into the main power lines was taken care of. It was then that she also realized she hadn't thought to grab any tools as she dove into the  _Falcon_ 's engine accessways. Force, she really was out of it, she grumbled to herself…but then she pushed all thought of that away; a far easier task than it would've been even half and hour ago. The point of working on the  _Falcon_  was to forget all that for the time being.

And it was working.

As she heard Chewie shuffling around inside the  _Falcon_ , heading toward the access hatch most likely, she bit her lip in thought before shrugging to herself.

Then she simply yanked it out. And promptly rolled her eyes at the shoddiness of the installation; it didn't even damage the original transponder…it'd need a bit of cleaning up, maybe…but then so did most of the ship, she mused fondly. With a few little adjustments and a bit of wire twisting, she had the real transponder adequately reconnected and functioning properly again.

After wiggling back up and out, she propped the junky replacement transponder on the hull as she closed up the access bay. In moments she was back across the top of the  _Falcon_ , tossing the makeshift transponder unit to Chewie, who had poked his head out of the hatch. She couldn't hold back the satisfied smirk that appeared on her face.

"Problem solved." Chewie's eyes narrowed as he looked over the unit, his tone incredulous as he examined it, bemoaning why mechanics who didn't know what they were doing were allowed anywhere near the  _Falcon_ …or why they were allowed near ships in general. Ana held back a snicker that she knew would only irritate the wookiee further. It was definitely as though nothing had changed…she could swear she knew this particular complaining monologue of his off by heart. Instead, she listened patiently as he descended back inside the  _Falcon_  so she could follow. Once he was back inside, she hit the control for the hatch's repulsorlift, absently thinking she could go back later and look after the landing jet decompression housing.

She barely had the top hatch access sealed up behind her when her comlink beeped, cutting off Chewie's tirade against inexperienced mechanics meddling with things they didn't understand. Biting back another laugh, Ana fished the comlink off her belt.

"Commander Adyé," she acknowledged.

"Commander: reconnaissance on the First Order's Starkiller Base has come back. You're asked to report to the Command Centre for the briefing."

And it all came rushing back. Ana's grin faded, her stomach sinking.

Indicating she was on her way, Ana had the comm quickly stowed away again as she was shrugging the upper half of her flightsuit back on, carefully ensuring it was adequately covered her scar— it would serve for the time being; she could retrieve the rest of her flight-gear later—before heading to the boarding ramp, grabbing the transponder unit as Chewie held it out to her, her mood momentarily buoyed. Han was going  _love_  seeing what she'd found… She snickered at the sarcastic thought. She glanced up at the wookiee, who was still eyeing the unit in her hand as though it had personally offended him.

"C'mon, Chewie. Let's see what this new First Order Base—Starkiller, or whatever it's called—is all about." As if that wasn't a name to send chills down her spine. She might have thought the name silly and overly aggrandizing once. But after hearing what it had done to the Hosnian system? It was a name that inspired only dread.

She wasn't sure what to expect from the briefing she was heading toward, but she highly doubted there was going to be much in the way of good news.

So much for the effects of her tinkering therapy…


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little bit new. A sneak peek of things to come in the Lady Adye Series, if you will. ;) I hope you enjoy!!

_That's when I lost him_.

_That's when I lost you both_.

Han sighed, Leia's words echoing in his head as he leaned against one of the unoccupied consoles that edged the heart of the Resistance's Command Centre. Around him, the Command Centre buzzed, the reconnaissance on Starkiller due to arrive at any moment. The waiting was quickly coming to an end.

But Han barely paid any of it any notice, his wife's words not leaving him alone.

Especially since there had been so much else left unsaid.

They hadn't just lost Ben and each other, they'd also effectively lost Luke too. And they'd nearly lost Ana. Hell, Han mused despondently, in many ways, they  _had_  lost Ana. The girl she had been…before. The woman she'd been poised to grow into. Not that Han adored his niece any less for the woman she'd become instead, but his heart still ached for the future that had been stolen from her that horrible night.

She'd lost everything; her home, her family…his eyes squeezed shut in pain at the other bright future that had been irrevocably torn apart that night, who'd had her very life stolen violently away, leaving deep scars on the people who'd lost her…especially knowing…he pushed the thought and its tiny, painful flicker of hope away, unable to bear thinking on it on top of everything else in that moment. He swallowed thickly then at the inevitable next thought…

They'd lost Athara.

There had been some talk back during the War that he and Athara had been an item, back when she'd still been going by Tamara, but Han had never understood the whispers. Sure, they'd been close; they'd hit it off right from the start, Athara's snark about him being 'old' aside. But right from the beginning it had been…well, there had never really been a chance that anything romantic would spark between them. It had always been purely platonic between them. Athara had become the closest thing to a sister Han had ever had. By the time she and Luke had gotten together, she had been his little sister in all but name. A by-product of their similar senses of humour and morality, no doubt. Not to mention their mutual loneliness in the Galaxy, he supposed.

So losing the former sith apprentice had been a kick in the gut that Han still felt all these years later. An ache that still hadn't gone away. An ache like the lingering shard of guilt and grief and responsibility lodged in his chest that pulsed and stung whenever thoughts of his son emerged.

And they emerged often.

Ben had been his life just as Leia had been. Just as they both still were. Just as Luke and Athara's children had become. He'd never had anyone, save Chewie, until he'd found Leia, Athara and Luke.

Everything seemed to remind him of Ben. Leia. Chewie. The Falcon. The Senate residential district on Coruscant. Reformation Day. The Lake District on Naboo. The Nabooian-style summer pasta Ben had loved. The 'Smuggler Stew' that he'd hated. The Sabacc table.

Ana.

Han sighed again. That girl had been through so damn much. And she still hurt. Far more than she was willing to admit. But Han could see it, clear as day, the same way he'd been able to see it on Athara.

"Just like her mother," he muttered to himself with a faint grunt of exasperation. Far too much like Athara at tim—

"Captain Solo?"

Han turned to find himself face to face with Ana's pilot, the young Commander looking to him with undeniable respect and even a trace of awe in his wide grin as he held out his hand. "Poe Dameron," he introduced.

Eying him, Han couldn't help the twig of recognition at the name. Yes, now that he'd mentioned it, there was something familiar about him. Han grasped young Dameron's hand.

"So you're Kes Dameron's boy," he asked, though the question was more like a statement. Poe's wide grin grew brighter still as he shook Han's hand with a firm grasp. Good handshake, Han couldn't help but muse absently.

"I am," the Commander answered, visibly pleased. "He always spoke very highly of you, Sir." Han nearly scoffed at the honorific; he hadn't been called that since the days of the Rebellion. Ana had called him that once as a joke, he recalled with fond annoyance. But Han nevertheless grinned back, shrugging.

"Yeah, well. He was a good man, your father. He talked about you a lot, back in the day, little tyke that you were then. I can see a good deal of him in you, you know. It was hard hearing when he passed." Poe's features sobered, his dark eyes growing shadowed for a moment. His grin was still pleased, but in a grieved sort of way.

It looked how Han often felt when he thought about how proud Athara would be of Ana.

"He lived long enough to see me make Commander with the Republic Corps," Poe said with a soft sort of pride before growing serious. "But not to see me join up with the Resistance. I think it would've pained him. To know that the fight he and my Mum had fought wasn't truly over." Han nodded. He knew that feeling intimately.

"Yeah, I could see that," he agreed softly. But then his memory dug up another fragment that had him eying the young Commander again. "Your Mom was a pilot with the Rebellion, right?"

Poe's grin widened again and he nodded. "She was. Lieutenant Shara Bey of Green Squadron during the Battle of Endor."

"So you followed in her footsteps, then, rather than your Dad's," Han said lightly. Poe laughed.

"Somewhat. She was an A-Wing pilot, where I'm partial to X-Wings, myself," he countered lightly. Han grunted, the sound reminiscent of a laugh. He wasn't the only one. Luke had loved the things and he knew Ana had inherited that from her father. He didn't really see the appeal in snubfighters, himself.

"And now you're not just a pilot in this mess," he said, "but a Commander too." Poe beamed, his head bowing slightly in proud confirmation. Han bit back another grunting laugh at the gesture. Leia was right, he mused. Poe Dameron really did have a fire in him reminiscent of the one Luke carried. Or at least, like the Luke they'd known had before the Galaxy started spiralling toward disaster again.

"Black Leader, Sir," Poe clarified with no small amount of pride, "and the best pilot the Resistance has, if I do say so myself."

As a smirk rose to his lips of its own accord, Han couldn't help himself. "You sure about that?" Poe's eyes sharpened and Han abruptly realized he had to tread carefully.

But then, Han had never been the best at 'careful.'

"So, you and Ana, huh?" A funny look came over the Commander's face at Han's comment. Something between concern, curiosity, wariness and a pleased sort of pride. Not to mention affection. Even adoration. Oh, yeah. The Kid had it bad.

Just about as bad as his niece, if Han was any judge.

But in a split-second the mixed-up emotions were gone, and Poe was clearing his throat as his wide, confident smile returned.

"Not sure what you mean, but I will admit she's a heck of a pilot. And she's a great Red Leader." Han snorted.  _She was born to it_ , he couldn't help but think.

"You're a terrible liar, you know that, right?" Han said wryly. A dull flush rose to Poe's cheeks and a strangled almost-laugh escaped the young Commander. Han grinned. "Ana's much better at it than you, but she already gave it away."

It was then that Poe's eyes grew sharp again, his gaze suddenly calculating as he looked to Han.

"You know her well, then." It wasn't a question. Han knew then that he really was on shaky ground, mentally kicking himself. Perhaps care really was required.

"You could say that."

"She's comfortable around you." It sounded almost like an accusation, and Han half-expected Poe to cross his arms in an attempt at intimidation to go along with it.

Han just shrugged, partially ignoring the weight of the statement. He had to act casual. His niece's secrets were not his to blow. She'd worked too hard to find some semblance of 'normal' that she could live with, no matter his gut instinct that it shouldn't come at the cost of denying where she'd come from. "I've known her a long time," was all he finally said.

"Since she flew with Bek Reem." Han nodded in response, feeling suddenly like he was being interrogated. He definitely had the feeling that the Commander was weighing his answers carefully, examining them, comparing them with what he knew from Ana. Poe studied him for a long moment, his features hard to read.

"She's not comfortable around anyone," the young Commander finally said softly, taking Han by surprise, "save me, Reem, the General and now you." He knew something, Han realized with an uneasy clench in his gut. But Poe didn't know what he knew. And it was leaving the young pilot conflicted and frustrated.

"Hey, now," Han hedged firmly, his instincts to protect Ana surging forward. "You sure you want to go there?" Poe's expression grew defiant and Han's gut twisted. He knew that look. "You sure Ana wants you to go there?"

It was the right thing to say, and Poe Dameron seemed to deflate before his very eyes. The Commander was nearly desperate to understand, Han realized with a pang, but his niece's instincts for locking away her own past were keeping him at arm's length despite the obvious connection between them. Han sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I gather talking to her hasn't gotten you far?"

Poe scoffed. "She's very good at deflecting," he said, frustration threading his tone.

"She is that," Han agreed dryly.

But then Poe sighed heavily. "She shuts down if I so much as think about it." Han eyed him thoughtfully.

"So you gave up?" Poe bristled at that.

"I give her space," he said sharply, his dark eyes flashing. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out she's trying to avoid something awful from her past, even without seeing her scars or hearing—" Poe's mouth snapped shut, the young pilot suddenly visibly furious with himself for allowing his tongue to run away with him like that. Han felt the blood drain from his face.

"You've seen her scars?" Han's voice was little more than a hoarse rasp. Mutely Poe nodded his answer. "But she never told you where they came from." It wasn't a question anymore than Poe's earlier ones had been.

Poe dejectedly shook his head no.

"Well, damn," Han muttered. Again, Poe only nodded, his expression broadcasting his agreement. Han scrubbed a hand over his face. This was worse than he thought. If she trusted this Hotshot enough to let him see the scars Ben left but still couldn't bring herself to  _tell_  him where they'd come from? His gut ached at the very thought. Especially if his instincts about how much Ana cared about Dameron were on track.

"Look, Dameron," he finally said, clamping a hand on Poe's shoulder and fixing him with a hard look…

…but he faltered. Part of him wanted to say something, anything to help the young Commander understand. Something that could help him help Ana. But a larger, protective, paternal part rejected the very idea; telling Poe anything ran the risk of breaking Ana's past wide open to the pilot. Something she'd been avoiding for years. Without knowing exactly what she'd told Dameron? Even the smallest, most innocuous sounding detail could give it all away. Especially considering the intelligent, calculating glint he'd recognized in Poe's eyes almost from the moment the young Commander had approached him. He couldn't risk betraying Ana's trust like that.

She had little enough of it left, anymore. He sighed again.

"If…if she trusts you enough to let you see them?" Han hesitated, unsure how to word what he meant. Leia was the eloquent one, he groused silently, and of course she wasn't around to keep him from messing this up. But he pressed on anyway. He knew he had to. "She'll open up about them, about everything, eventually. She just…she just needs more time." Poe's expression tightened, and Han suspected he was trying to rein in another surge of frustration. He'd already been waiting a while, if Han was any judge.

"So you know about her past, then." Han knew exactly what Poe meant and more; he knew the details Ana refused to let herself remember, much less tell.

Yeah," Han said unable to help the tired, sad way he said it, "you could say that. One of the few, probably."

"That explains why she never mentioned knowing you until today," Poe said bitterly, the comment quiet enough Han had to strain to hear it. "She doesn't even openly admit to running with Reem years back, and that's the reason they send her out to meet with him in the first place." Han bit back a groan. Okay, that was more extreme than he'd hoped, but not exactly worse than he'd feared.

But then Poe's shoulders slumped, the younger pilot carding a hand roughly through his dark hair. "Everything she's hiding, everything she's keeping from me…it's bad, isn't it." Han squeezed the Commander's shoulder gently in commiseration.

"Kid, you have no idea," he said softly. Poe looked up, pained understanding as clear on his face as Han's sorrow had been in his voice.

"That's what I was afraid of," he said, sounding impossibly tired. And heartsick. "With the things she said after I told her about the Massacre on Jakku alone? Believe me, I know. No one reacts the way she did without some serious ghosts haunting them. No one guards their past the way she does without… It's just—" Han's gut clenched painfully. To echo the pilot in front of him, it didn't take a genius to figure out what hearing about Jakku would bring back for her. If one knew her the way Han did, at least.

Han straightened, his hand falling back to his side. A strange, relieved warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched the Commander brush aside the shadow of his crestfallen frustration, determination once again coming to glint in his dark eyes as he looked up to Han.

And then the cocky grin from before was back, though it wasn't quite as bright as before. Or perhaps Han could just see the weight Poe was carrying behind it this time.

"I can do patient if that's what she needs," he said with a charming grin. "I've already been doing it this long." Han scoffed, but nevertheless grinned back. It was a softer expression than he might have intended if it had been on purpose.

"She needs someone who can make her happy." Poe blinked and Han swallowed thickly, having not expected to say something so…sentimental. But it was true. Ana was as good as a daughter to him, and he wanted nothing more for her than to find some happiness in her life after everything she'd lost. So he had no interest in taking it back. "She deserves to be happy," he repeated firmly. Poe met his eye. Around them, the Command Centre was beginning to come to life again, the reconnaissance Leia had ordered likely coming back. But Han and Poe stood apart from that, just now. At least until this was resolved. Han studied the young Commander just as the Commander studied him. Ultimately, the young Commander didn't need to say a word. Han just knew.

Poe Dameron wholeheartedly agreed.

Without even knowing everything, despite Ana holding back as much about herself and her past as Han suspected she had even from the pilot before him, Han could see that clear as day. He nodded once to himself, satisfied. The Hotshot was okay and, Han suspected, just what Ana needed. Poe's eyes narrowed faintly in curiosity at the gesture.

"Good," was all Han could say to that.


	17. Chapter 16

Retracing her path back down into the heart of the Base, Ana was initially surprised at just how crowded the Command Centre seemed. But as she began fighting her way toward the Primary Tactical Display, privately relieved that the crowd was thinning, she realized it probably shouldn't really be all that unexpected. After all, the destruction of the Hosnian System was nearly beyond comprehension in its enormity, and the wider implications grim at their most optimistic, so of course everyone on Base was nearly desperate to learn more about the weapon behind the catastrophic attack.

Given the way Resistance personnel were currently milling about, it was fairly obvious the briefing wasn't about to start yet, not that Ana was surprised on that account either. Snap could have only just returned, so she knew logically it would take a little time yet for the data to be uploaded to the Base's central computer and appropriately analyzed before Command could jump into a briefing and strategy session. In the meantime, Ana fully intended to find her Uncle. Since he hadn't returned to the  _Falcon_ , Ana had to assume he was still somewhere in the Command Centre. Not being terribly tall, Ana was having particular difficulty trying to see him among the crush of people blocking her access to the heart of the Command Centre. Huffing with exasperation, she turned to Chewie, who had a distinct advantage in height. With a look that seemed to read her mind, the Wookiee gestured farther into the Command Centre before making a quip about her height. Ana scowled at him.

"Yes, I understand if you were to lift me up I'd be able to see him for myself, but no, I would very much not appreciate it, thank you," she answered acerbically. He only laughed, earning him a peeved look. Still chuffing a little at his good-natured joke, he stepped around Ana to begin clearing a path through the crowd gathered around the entrance to the Command Centre; no one was about to try stopping a wookiee from getting through. As soon as his back was turned, Ana allowed the grin she'd been repressing to make a brief appearance before following close behind her Uncle's trusted co-pilot. In moments they were through the milling personnel and into the far less crowded heart of the Command Centre.

It was then that Ana finally caught sight of her Uncle. He was standing a little off to the side, absently watching the meeting around the Main Tactical Display where Leia, Snap, Statura, Ackbar and Poe were going over Snap's reconnaissance before the briefing started in earnest. He looked up at a triumphant rumble from Chewie, his distracted gaze flicking between his co-pilot and his niece. Almost as soon as he did, Ana tossed the makeshift transponder unit to him. The old smuggler caught it handily, a frown lighting on his face as he looked it over.

"That's it?  _This_  is what was causing the problem? Where'd you find it," he asked distractedly, still examining it as Ana and Chewie came to a stop beside him. Chewie grumbled with annoyance, still upset himself that someone would have installed such a half-baked idea of a mod in the first place. Ana shot the wookiee an affronted look.

"We? I'm the one who found it!" She turned back to Han, not hiding the satisfied smirk on her face, "it was on the transponder and transmission control circuitry, near the backup communication transmitter panel. Some moron was trying to jerry-rig a modification to the existing IFF transponder rather than simply removing it…probably because they couldn't figure out how to reprogram it…they didn't even disconnect the IFF one, instead using this mess to try and alter the signal instead. Plus they wired it into the main power lines."

"The power lines," Han blustered, baffled, "that would more than double the power to transponder, shorting the frequency inhibitor, boosting the transponder signal —"

"—shorting the frequency inhibitor, boosting the transponder signal to produce a transmission resonance at nearly twice the usual rate without the inhibitor to moderate the signal," Ana finished nearly in sync with him, both thinking the same thing. They both grinned before Ana continued, "that's why she was lighting up every sensor array in the same system as her, even the civilian scanners; her transponder was inadvertently broadcasting not just a corrupted ID signal but her location to anyone and everyone, whether they wanted to see her or not. I doubt anyone was intending to make her so blatantly traceable, just whoever put in the mod didn't seem to understand that simply wiring the mod into the transponder would have powered it; they didn't need to tap into the main lines. That's also why it was only active when the primary stardrives were online; someone bypassed the connection to the generators in favour of the engine lines, not realizing how that type of power source would boost the unit." Han nearly growled as he looked down to the unit in his hand again.

"I swear, if I ever get my hands on whoever did those mods—" Ana laughed before interrupting him, grabbing the unit out of his hand.

"I suppose that means I'll have to get in line!" That earned a crooked grin. He clapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Good job, Kid." Ana shrugged dramatically, glancing slyly at her Uncle out of the corner of her eye.

"I know," she said brightly, "what would you do without me." She turned the tie-in unit over in her hands again before fixing Han with a light but defiant look, "I'm still not entirely sure why you didn't try harder to convince me to stay instead of going off with Reem, you know. I was keeping the  _Falcon_  running better than you were."

"Hey!" She grinned cheekily at the smuggler's objecting interjection.

"Who was it again who figured out how to reprogram the horizontal thrust pressure manifold?" she asked, her voice pointedly self-satisfied, "and fixed the power flux actuator? What about the starboard hyperdrive coil, the one you and Chewie had been essentially bandaging for years? Who? Oh yeah, me." She laughed at the almost befuddled look on his face as he thought over the fixes she'd listed, his face very telling as he realized she was right. She smiled up at him, suddenly nostalgic, "It wasn't a bad couple years." An equally nostalgic look came over the old smuggler's features as he looked down at her.

"We did have a good run, the three of us, didn't we." After a moment, he pointedly cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed at being so openly sentimental.

"You know, I've been thinking," he was trying to sound overly casual, something which immediately made Ana suspicious. Chewie huffed in exasperation, earning a warning look from Han, "I've been thinking on it for a little while, now, and I was thinking that, when this is all over, that maybe you could come back out with me and Chewie. Help get the old girl back in shape, help fix the mess Plutt, Ducain and the Irving Boys made with their deluded mods." Ana's eyebrows nearly shot to her hairline.

"Really? What happened to you and Chewie being a duo? Your attempts to go legit? Why the sudden change of mind?" He shrugged, his look distant. Ana watched him, frowning a little at the expression. She couldn't quite read it. That was unusual. She knew him well enough that she could almost always tell what he was thinking.

"I dunno," he said after a moment, his eyes flicking to her for a split-second before darting away, glancing up at Chewie. The wookiee shrugged. "The last few days have got me thinking, is all."

"I got that impression," Ana interjected dryly. He shushed her, his eyes twinkling a little the way they always did when she sassed him.

"After what happened on the Eravana, with Chewie getting injured, I suppose I realized that having a second mate, who could help out in a pinch, really wasn't such a bad idea, and having that Jakku girl co-piloting with me when Chewie was hurt got me remembering what it was like having you flying with us…I was thinkin' about asking the girl on too. I think the two of you would get along pretty well. Both of you certainly know how to handle the  _Falcon_  and you both understand her, that's for sure—"

"What is it about this girl that everyone keeps talking about," she asked abruptly at the same time Chewie interrupted, pointing out that Han was digressing. Han shot his co-pilot an unreadable look. There was something in his voice that Ana couldn't place, something that sparked a strange, almost uneasy feeling in her. Apparently Han was keeping things from her too, and she liked that even less than her Aunt keeping her in the dark. She'd always known Han to be honest with her. He ignored her question completely. But before she could say anything further, calling him on his sudden secrecy, Han had resumed, his voice back to that forced casualness meant to disguise how genuine and serious he was.

"Anyway, I guess we only just realiz—" Chewie interjected again, pointing out he'd realized it as soon as she'd left to join Reem's ship, earning a flustered scowl from Han, "fine,  _I_  only just realized just how much I miss having you around. You were a good hand, Ana; a good mechanic and a good pilot." Ana beamed at the gruffness he affected, not quite able to bring herself to tease, especially with the emotion suddenly welling in her chest as he kept talking. It really meant a lot to her; the  _Falcon_  had been the first place where she felt like she'd belonged after…well, after. "You certainly proved that earlier on Takodana. That move—I gotta say it again; that was impressive. And I also hear you're calling it the Solo Feint?" And they were back to bantering, Han's crooked grin back in place as he relished in having a manoeuvre named after him. Ana sighed dramatically in affectionate exasperation, but before she could retort back, they were interrupted.

"Yeah, she's really not a bad pilot, is she, Captain Solo." Poe had come up behind Ana, draping a casual arm around her shoulder, "taught her everything she knows about flying X-wings," he teased, his cocksure grin flashing charmingly. Ana rolled her eyes, fighting back a laugh. Han looked momentarily taken aback as he looked at the Commander, mouthing a silent, bewildered 'you?' as he gestured toward Poe. The old smuggler shot Ana an incredulous look. She just shook her head in exasperation…pilots…

"Nice try, Hotshot, but I think I'm the one to take credit; I'm the one who taught her how to fly in the first place. Besides, that fancy feint of hers? She learned that from me," Han boasted, still faintly affronted. Poe's grin dimmed by a fraction. Ana scoffed, resisting another eye-roll as she shrugged Poe's arm off her shoulder.

"Hey! I think that's enough of that! Nice try, but you did not teach me how to fly, Solo, and neither did you, Dameron. And you know, maybe I'm just talented and all the credit for my fantastic piloting skills belongs to me," she rejoined with unwavering self-assurance, aiming a charming smile of her own at both her Commander and her Uncle. Han huffed grumpily, but she could see that proud grin playing about his mouth again. Poe chuckled, though there was a faint, questioning reserve in his expression that suddenly had Ana feeling guilty again…as did the serious look briefly exchanged between him and her Uncle. Her stomach flopped uneasily. So Poe had managed to track down her Uncle for a chat. And judging by the look in both their eyes? She had a rather nervous sense that she'd figured prominently in that chat. Poe wouldn't have been able to resist…

What was worse was that she had no idea how she felt about that. Part of her felt annoyed, even upset, that they had undoubtedly been talking about her. Especially since she had no idea what had been said.

Yet another part of her felt relieved.

But then the look was gone, and there was only amusement in his dark eyes.

It helped a little, but it didn't banish the twisting, guilty feeling in her gut completely.

Across the room, someone called out for Poe, drawing his attention for an instant. As Ana and Han looked on with curiosity, Poe nodded his acknowledgement of the shout before turning back to them. He clapped Ana on the shoulder as he started moving toward the Central Tactical Display.

"Come on, Adyé, Captain Solo; we've finished preliminary analysis on the reconnaissance Snap brought back on the Starkiller Base; we're ready for the Briefing." Ana couldn't help the way her cheeks began to warm as his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away. Han raised an eyebrow at Ana as Poe moved off. She knew that questioning expression well. Ana shot him an irritated look. Hadn't they gone over this before? Of all the things in that exchange that he had to react to, did it really need to be her last name?

"I'll say it again: Adyé's quite a bit less conspicuous than Skywalker, Uncle Han. I don't need that look again." She muttered bitterly before turning and following after Poe. Honestly, her Uncle didn't seem to want to let that one thing go. It hadn't even been her idea originally; it had been Leia who suggested that going by her mother's family name would be wise given how instantly recognizable the Skywalker name was. Adyé was still somewhat recognizable, but nowhere near to the same degree as her father's surname.

As Ana stalked up to the tactical display, there were only a few free spots left. Around the display itself, Poe and Snap had each taken up positions near the two of the four cardinal-point control consoles, with Leia taking up a position near the third, across from Snap. Majors Ematt and Brance were already stoically arrayed to Snap's right while Admiral Ackbar and Finn stood between Snap and Poe. Of course Statura was next to General Organa, as was Threepio with a handful of other pilots and techs filling in the ranks. The rest of the Command Centre was further arrayed behind them all, hemming in the display from all sides in a loose circle, each face simultaneously eager and reserved.

Ana had to all but elbow her way through the crowd that was closing ranks around the highest-ranking present members of the Resistance; it felt like everyone on D'Qar was pressed into the room, making Ana feel faintly claustrophobic at so many bodies in such a confined space. Ana slotted herself in between Ackbar and Snap, shooting the recon-pilot a distracted smile in greeting at his nod. Normally they would perhaps banter a bit before a briefing, but today the mood was far too grim for such light-heartedness. Ana nearly jumped, her back and neck tensing instead, as someone abruptly leaned in behind her, a hand landing heavily on her shoulder.

"For the record, that 'look' was about the 'nothing's going on' between you and the Hotshot you tried to sell me earlier," Han muttered next to her ear as he passed her, "not the last name thing." She fought against the urge to glower or make a face at him.

He just smiled amiably back, his eyes laughing at her as he continued on past her.


	18. Chapter 17

Ana watched irritably as her Uncle continued past her as though he hadn't said anything, making his way to the free spot left across the display from Poe. Chewie took up his usual place on Han's right, having been following close behind his friend. She was severely tempted to give into the urge to glare at Han when she caught sight of the smirk lingering on his familiar features as he looked between her and Poe. But Ana didn't get a chance to react further as Leia chose that moment to get the briefing started.

There was very little in the way of introduction; a brief summary of what had happened to the Hosnian System, what little they knew about this new weapon already, as well as a brief explanation of Finn's defection and help in finally pinpointing where the First Order's secret Base was located. It was then that the General indicated for Poe to take over. With a curt nod in thanks, the Commander wasted little time, drawing every eye to him as he took over the briefing, quickly going over some of the other intel Finn had provided.

"The scan data from Snap's reconnaissance flight confirms Finn's report." Poe finished, his face grim.

"They've somehow created a hyper-lightspeed weapon built within the planet itself," Snap elaborated, his voice still faintly incredulous, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. Ana couldn't blame him; the entire planet was now a weapon. It defied logic.

"A laser cannon," Major Brance concluded aloud, though it still sounded like a question. He looked like he too was still trying to process the information. Ana's attention was drawn back to Snap as his head shook absently. She had to agree. 'Laser cannon' was certainly not the right classification.

"We're not sure how to describe a weapon of this scale," the recon pilot admitted, visibly at a loss. Ana's stomach dropped, and she could swear she felt the ambient feeling of dread in the room rise another notch.

"It's another Death Star," Major Ematt blurted out, his eyes haunted at the very thought, saying what many others in the room where thinking. Ana exchanged a quick glance with Snap, the guarded look in the Captain's eyes and faint shake of his head disagreeing with the comment. His gaze lifted to Poe as the Commander shifted, reaching for the display's control console.

"I wish that were the case, Major," the Commander contradicted soberly, manipulating the controls to bring up the visual he was after. All eyes swiveled to the display, where a small, green tactical projection of the Death Star appeared over their heads. "This was the Death Star." And then it was shifting to make way for a second, much,  _much_  larger projection. "This is Starkiller Base."

Ana felt herself go cold at the sight of the Death Star—one of the most terrifying weapons the Galaxy had seen, the weapon she'd heard stories about since she was a child—displayed to scale beside this newest weapon. It looked like it could nearly fit inside the superweapon's firing cylinder. Gasps and exclamations of disbelief flooded through the Command Centre. Ana's eyes flicked again to Snap, who just looked unhappily up at the projection, before turning to glance at her Aunt. Just like Snap, Leia was looking up at the projection, her normally warm gaze troubled and wary. Ana caught Poe's eye as she scanned the other faces around the table. His own expression was unreadable. Ana looked back up to the projection only to have Han pull her attention away again.

"So it's big," her Uncle said brusquely, his deliberately casual tone snapping everyone out of the shocked dread that seemed to grip the room. Gazes immediately turned serious as eyes and minds switched gears from incredulity to more analytical study.

"How is it possible to power a weapon of this size?" Admiral Ackbar questioned, causing eyes to search around the display for someone who might know the answer, from Snap to Poe to Admiral Statura. It was Finn who stepped forward, though, coming to stand between Ana and Snap, looking grimly around the display as he spoke.

"It uses the power of the sun. As the weapon is charged, the sun is drained until it disappears." His explanation threatened to throw the room back into stunned distraction.

"Hence the name, I suppose," Ana said dryly, drawing a few eyes her way and even a few morbid grins and chuckles. Finn just looked at her, his dark eyes distinctly uneasy, though a faint grin tugged at his mouth. Ana couldn't help but lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. At that moment, a command tech appeared at Leia's side, handing her a datapad. Those around the display fell quiet, all eyes turning to Leia as she read what was obviously bad news. It was written all over her face as she looked up at her fellow Resistance Commanders

"The First Order: they're charging the weapon again, now," Ana's hand dropped from Finn's shoulder as dread settled in her gut. Around her, others straightened, looking intently to the General in trepidation, hoping she wasn't about the say what they all feared. "Our system is the next target." The fearful murmur that followed the visualization of Starkiller's size nearly revived.

"Oh my. Without the Republic Fleet, we're doomed," Threepio moaned. Had Ana not been equally anxious, she'd have been tempted to roll her eyes at the golden droid's propensity for hysterics; on this occasion, though, it did seem somewhat warranted. It was true. With the  _Raddus_ ,  _Ninka_ , and the rest of their handful of capital ships out of the system, there was no way they could be recalled for the Base to be evacuated quickly enough. There simply weren't enough ships, not with the Republic Fleet destroyed.

"Okay, how do we blow it up?" Every eye was suddenly on Han again, the old smuggler looking intently around the table himself. Everyone else looked startled at his sudden question. "There's always a way to do that," he pointed out as though it were common sense. And Ana supposed that, in a way, it was. She couldn't help but grin, nearly shaking her head at his odd and unique brand of pragmatism.

"Han's right," Leia said, her eyes fixed on her husband, some of their warmth returning. Catching sight of that simple expression reassured Ana, banishing the chilling dread that had been trying to settle within her. Her Uncle was right; there had to be a way. Ana shifted her eyes back to the projection, scanning over the representations of outposts and powerstations, trying to muddle out a means of destroying or even disabling the weapon just as she was sure everyone else was.

But no one was immediately able to volunteer any suggestions, all of them apparently still too caught up by the Base's size and the fact that it was now aimed directly at them. Yes, eyes were scanning the projection just as Ana's were, some minds obviously puzzling out possible options, but no one seemed willing to throw out any ideas, hung up by the simple and monumental question of whether any ideas would even be possible to pull off. But more seemed to be glancing to the Resistance Leadership, especially Statura. She supposed that made sense…if anyone was going to be able to figure something out, it'd be the Admiral, what with his extensive background in engineering and applied sciences.

Turning her attention back to the display, Ana couldn't help but think back to the Death Stars, certain she wasn't the only one doing so, trying to think on precisely how they'd been destroyed in case there was inspiration to be had there; it had been the main reactors they'd gone after then. But looking up at Starkiller, Ana knew that wasn't about to be an option, not in the same way it had with the Death Stars. Even a catastrophic reactor explosion wasn't going to do the same sort of damage on a planet-based weapon simply because its collection of reactors were on a much smaller scale and spread across the planet.

But one thing she did remember from reports on the Battle of Endor she'd been forced to read after joining the Resistance was that it wasn't just the main reactor they'd gone after…

"What about power regulation," Ana mused aloud as the thought hit her, drawing a handful of eyes to her, "with the kind of power requirements needed for the weapon alone, regulating it would be absolutely essential, the same way a regulator would be necessary to modulate the power from a main reactor." It was more of an observation than an idea, but hey, it was worth pointing out.

Especially since no one else was saying anything.

"You're still thinking of it like a Death Star," Brance remarked with a trace of impatience, putting together where her thinking had started. She shrugged. Statura looked thoughtfully at her, shaking his head at Brance's assessment.

"She has a point; even though it's collecting its power from an external source rather than creating it the way either Death Star did, controlling and storing that power is still essential. It would need an incredibly sophisticated containment and regulation system to keep the energy harvested from a sun stable enough to store and ultimately discharge without causing a catastrophic overload." Around the display, heads were beginning to nod in agreement with the Admiral's observation.

"We take out those systems, and we could cripple their ability to fire the weapon at all; they wouldn't be able to control the power they had," Ematt spoke up, voicing his tacit support. Around the table, heads began nodding in agreement, Ana's included.

"They couldn't risk it," she added absently.

"Not with that magnitude of power at play," Snap finished. Brance did have to cede that they all had a point. Statura still looked deep in thought as he continued to consider what she had initially pointed out, his brow furrowed as he looked up at the projection.

"In order for that amount of power to be contained, that Base would need some kind of thermal oscillator..." Statura gestured absently as he spoke, his mind still working as it been from the moment Ana mentioned power regulation, her observation triggering his own about containment and the subsequent necessity of an oscillator.

"There is one." Finn piped up from beside Ana, suddenly shuffling around the table to a spot near Poe, where he pointed up to a hexagonal structure. "Precinct 47. Here." Everyone looked from the former trooper to the projection as Poe immediately highlighted the structure using the console in front of him. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged, the dread easing as a reserved form of hope began growing.

"If we can destroy that oscillator, it might de-stabilize the core and cripple the weapon," Admiral Statura mused aloud, pacing around the table as he did, his voice nearly excited even when tempered by his characteristic rationality.

"Maybe the planet," Major Ematt added. Even as a hopeful excitement began growing within Ana too, she still looked warily up at the projection.

"That's an awfully big might," Ana couldn't help but caution. But she had to admit, there was little chance that Statura and Ematt were anything but completely right. The containment field controlled by that oscillator was likely the only thing that kept the planet stable when the weapon was storing the source sun's energy. But doubtlessly, the First Order had to know that too: it wasn't going to be an easy target, not by a long shot. Poe glanced at her, nodding faintly in acknowledgment before looking around the display, his expression determined.

"We'll go in there and we'll hit that oscillator with everything we got."

"They have defensive shields that our ships cannot penetrate," Ackbar pointed out, barely waiting for Poe to finish. Ana hated being the pragmatic voice, especially given her new-found convictions to take the fight against the First Order more seriously—she had heard far too much about the evils of the Empire growing up that, now faced with the distressingly similar threat of the First Order, she wasn't about to hold back, no matter the cost, especially in the face of this kind of weapon—but this situation in general made her wary, and no one else besides Ackbar seemed to be willing to be the voice of reasonable doubt. Poe had hit the crux of the problem with his earlier observation: this was no Death Star, and that oscillator was no exhaust port.

"Admiral Ackbar is right. That station presents a huge weakness. There's no way the First Order will leave a liability of that scale in any way unprotected." Beside her Snap was nodding emphatically, fiddling with the projection controls in front of him.

"We won't only have to go up against shielding, but reinforced and heavily fortified construction, turbolasers, blaster cannons, missile stations…" as the recon pilot spoke, the projection zoomed in on the station, highlighting the very defensive measures he was outlining.

"Not to mention squadrons of TIEs ready at a moment's notice," Akbar broke in solemnly.

"It's going to take more firepower than our starfighters have to get through the shields alone," Snap added. Nien Nunb similarly pointed out that they didn't have all that many fighters to begin with.

"So we disable the shields," Han interrupted, either not seeing or ignoring the almost incredulous look Ana shot him for making it sound so easy, before turning to Finn, "Kid, you worked there, what do you got?" The former Stormtrooper nearly started from whatever thoughts he'd been caught in, meeting Han's expectant look as he processed the question. A determined look appeared on his face.

"I can do it," he said solemnly. A ghost of Han's crooked grin appeared as he glanced to Leia.

"I like this guy," he commented as he gestured to Finn, his attention turning back to the young man as he continued, Finn's voice still serious.

"I can disable the shields. But I have to be there, on the planet," It was as though Ana knew what Han was going to say before her Uncle even turned to glance to Chewie for agreement.

"We'll get you there," Han assured Finn. Ana was about to object when her Aunt beat her to it.

"Han, how?" Han turned to his wife, a somewhat apologetic look in his face.

"If I told you, you wouldn't like it." Leia pursed her lips at his tone. Ana nearly groaned.

"I can guess and I don't like it," Ana muttered. Han's lip quirked and Leia shot her an admonishing look. Apparently she hadn't said it as quietly as she'd intended. The Lady Commander held up her hands in surrender, not saying another word. But she'd flown with her Uncle for just over two years and that had been more than enough time to see him do some pretty crazy stuff. After all, it took a special kind of guts—or crazy—to even contemplate trying to make the Kessel Run at all, much less in twelve parsecs. When he used that tone, she knew he was considering just that brand of crazy.

Nodding absently as he thought over what they'd decided, Poe looked over at the General before glancing around the table, resolve and even a trace of excitement lighting in his eyes.

"So we disable the shields, take out the oscillator and we blow up their big gun," he summarized, nothing but grim determination in his voice. Beside Han, Chewie roared a challenge for the First Order. Ana couldn't help but smile at the sound. Her gaze shifted to Poe, who met her eyes for a split, intent second before skimming around the display to Leia, silently asking for permission. She granted it with a faint nod. Poe gave the order.

"All right. Let's go!"


	19. Chapter 18

As soon as the briefing was wrapped, Ana was joining the flood of personnel streaming out of the Command Centre. Her first thought was that she needed to make it back to the  _Falcon_. To say each of the two missions—Han, Chewie and Finn deactivating the Shields and the Fighter Squadrons destroying the oscillator—were being fast-tracked was an understatement. Even as Ana reached daylight from the subterranean location of the Command Centre, fighters were already being prepped and pilots and techs were dashing this way and that. Ana needed to hurry and retrieve the flight-gear she'd left on the  _Falcon_.

It took a little effort to fight her way through the chaos to the far end of the landing pad, but she was soon running up the boarding ramp of the old freighter. In moments she had her compression-tee back on under her flightsuit and her flakvest on over that. Then she was descending the ramp again as she fiddled with the attachments for her life-support unit, nearly running into Chewie as she did. He and Han hadn't been far behind her. With a few words of luck and a quick hug, the wookiee shuffled around her to get started prepping the  _Falcon_  to leave. Han, meanwhile, was settling himself in front of the diagnostic station Chewie had hooked the  _Falcon_  up to when they'd first arrived on D'Qar. He glanced up at her as Ana came up to stand beside him before looking back down to the readings. He grunted after a moment, gesturing to the reading for the positive thrust control actuator.

"How do those look to you," he asked, his voice gruff and distracted. Ana's brow furrowed in thought as she skimmed over the readings. She frowned as a few jumped out at her.

"What? Is that—did someone try to tie-in mag-control with the thrust control actuators?" Han grunted again, the sound nearly a growl.

"Looks like it to me. And it's causing feedback to the sublight regulation manifolds. We're lucky whatever they did here didn't blow out the repulsorlift mag-control; Chewie's off to try and fix it now." Ana bit back a disappointed groan, suddenly wishing she had the time to help out with that fix.

"I spent ages on those mag-control regulators," she pouted, not caring how whiny she sounded…she'd been very proud of that fix. They'd never quite worked right until she and Chewie had figured out how to rewire the resonance regulators and get the repulsorlift gyros synchronized. Han laid a consoling hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure when we get back, you'll get it all straightened out," he tried to reassure her. She shot him a bitterly scathing look. He lifted his hand from her shoulder, holding it up in surrender as a grin tugged at his lips. He looked back to the readings he'd been going over, the scowl reappearing.

"Ducain had better watch his back…Plutt too, and the Irving boys, 'cause they're going to get what's coming to them for this mess—" Ana snorted in amused agreement before one of the names finally registered.

"Wait, Plutt? Jakku Junk Boss Unkar Plutt? He had the  _Falcon_?" Han nodded, suddenly looking at bit lost at the way she recognized the name. Ana actually did growl. "I should have shot him when I had the chance…" she muttered, her fingers fisting as though preparing to hit someone. Han eyed her in puzzlement.

"When did you see Plutt? He never leaves Jakku," Han blurted out. Ana scowled down at her hand, forcing her fingers to loosen before looking up at her Uncle.

"Commander Dameron, BB-8's master—the Hotshot—got himself stranded there and Aunt Leia assigned me to go pick him up. I had a chance to shoot Plutt!" Han froze, the confusion leeching from his face as to reveal a sudden wariness that had nothing to do with Plutt. "I'm rather regretting now that I didn't…He tried to have one of his thugs jump me and Lek and I was so clo—" She didn't get to finish as Han interrupted her.

"You were on Jakku," he confirmed, speaking slowly as though he wasn't sure he'd heard her right. Abruptly distracted from her train of thought, Ana nodded.

"Yeah," she answered just as deliberately. Then her eyes narrowed as she caught on to his sudden odd behavior, "why?" He didn't answer, his expression thoughtful before he seemed to shake it off.

"Nah, just…I never realized you'd ever been to Jakku. You should have shot him," he finally said, though Ana could tell that wasn't at all what he was really thinking.

"Well," she continued, trying to sound like she hadn't noticed the distinct melancholy that had come over her Uncle, "it was the first and last time. I have no intention of going back. I don't know what it was like before the First Order decided to try blowing it to shreds, but there was certainly not much to recommend it afterward…although, if Plutt's still there, I might be convinced." Han huffed distractedly, trying to refocus on the diagnostic readings. Ana shook her head; that had been intended to either make him laugh or get him riled up about the  _Falcon_ 's new mods again. After a moment he seemed to shake himself back from wherever his mind had wandered and spared a brief but searching glance at her.

"Did you give anymore thought to my offer?" Ana took a moment to hitch up against the stack of crates next to the diagnostic station. The frown on his face had reappeared as he actually skimmed over the rest of the readings, telling her he was no longer distracted by whatever mention of Plutt and Jakku had brought up. She shrugged, sighing dramatically as she set down her life-support unit next to her, crossing her arms loosely across her torso. It earned an amused grin from her Uncle.

"Very tempted," she admitted seriously, "more so than whenever Reem asks me to come back to work with him." Han grunted at her semi-casual tone as she mentioned Reem. Ana smiled, knowing full well what his grumpiness meant when it manifested like that, but she did hesitate before continuing. "But I love flying snub fighters," she added warily, not wanting to disappoint her uncle, "I'm just not ready to give that up yet. And…" she hesitated for a moment before pressing on, "and I feel like I'm needed here." She could tell that he'd been hoping she would agree by the way he had been trying not to watch her as she spoke, feigning at focusing intently on the  _Falcon_ 's diagnostics while not actually seeing what the readouts were saying. Surprisingly, though, Han's response was to grin at her mischievously.

"And a certain Hotshot doesn't come into play there?" Ana's cheeks burned.

"You can leave the Hotshot out of it," she snapped back, her cheeks reddening further when Han's grin widened, realizing how he interpreted what she'd said, "oh come on; you know that's not what I meant." He laughed.

"I know exactly what you meant, Kid," he teased as he turned back to her, the diagnostic station forgotten for the time being, "I'm just not sure you did." She scoffed, making a face at him. Still laughing, he held up his hands in truce.

"Just, think about it, okay sweetheart?" She met his eye warily, knowing he wasn't referring to his job offer anymore. But he wasn't teasing her, he was serious; she could tell from that particular endearment. "You deserve someone who'll look after you." Ana raised an eyebrow at him, focusing on acting indignant lest his heartfelt comment get her all emotional.

"I can take care of myself," she quipped, ignoring the way her voice was trying to tremble. His crooked smile appeared as he leaned against the crates next to her, an arm wrapping around her shoulder.

"You know I know that, and you know that's not what I meant." He was right. She managed a small smile. He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze "If he makes you happy, that's what's important; you've had enough—enough heartbreak in your life…enough taken away from you. And I'm sorry about that. You have no idea how sorry." She started at the way he said it. He sounded so remorseful, so…guilty.

"What do you mean," she blurted with a frown. She couldn't figure out where this was coming from all of a sudden. Remorseful she could understand, but guilt?

"You know it's my fault, right? That Ben turned?" Ana was stunned, her blood feeling once again like there were suddenly shards of ice flowing through it. She didn't know what to make of the abrupt admission, slowly shaking her head in denial.

"No, Uncle Han. No. That's not—" He shifted, his hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

"It is, Ana," he said softly, a galaxy of pain and remorse in his voice. "I wasn't there for him. We were off trying to clean up the mess left by the Empire instead of with him. And—and…and I was afraid of him, Ana. Afraid of my own son, what he had the potential to become. Part of me was glad, relieved, when Leia decided it was time for him to train with Luke. He never forgave me for that, and that changed him."

"That's different. That doesn't make it your fault," she objected, fighting back the resentment she could hear making its way into her voice. She hated the broken and resigned look in his eyes. After That Night he was the only one who hadn't treated her like she was broken, and she'd come to rely on that. Seeing him, now, looking so bereft? He looked down at her knowingly, only partially misunderstanding her tone.

"Yeah, well. He's my son, Ana. And it was my son's actions that cost you everything. And that's on me—"

"Why are you doing this?" Ana stood abruptly, interrupting him snappishly, "you're making this sound like a death-bed confession, Uncle Han. Stop it!" Han frowned, looking faintly perplexed at her cross vehemence, as though he hadn't quite realized what his admission was sounding like.

"I just—after seeing him on Takodana, I guess I—look, I just want to get it off my chest, you know? Just in case. We both know the odds on this mission." Ana chuckled darkly, her heated, almost angry alarm easing.

"You always say you never pay attention to the odds," she said wryly. Han smiled heavily, standing himself.

"Sometimes it's hard not to, no matter how much you tell yourself they don't matter. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to ignore them anyway." That earned an actual laugh from Ana and a return of Han's crooked grin. He looked down at her fondly, reaching up to affectionately cup her cheek for a moment before gesturing with a head-tilt that she should get going.

"You've still got to get your fighter prepped, and I've got to help Chewie ready the  _Falcon_. You better get going." Inhaling deeply to try and clear out the emotion still trying to cling in her throat, she nodded sharply before grabbing up her FreiTek unit.

"Ana?" She froze at how vulnerable he sounded. Han never sounded vulnerable, not like this, not that she'd even seen. She looked back to him, the sincere earnestness in her uncle's gaze almost unnerving. "If you ever find Luke, don't—" he hesitated, stumbling over how to voice what he wanted to say, "Just…give him a chance. Don't hate him." She wanted to contradict him, to point out that she had no intention of trying to find her father again anyway. But it obviously meant a lot to him, and she couldn't bring herself to argue over this just now.

"I'll try," she agreed softly, "but no promises." A wry but satisfied grin appeared at her answer before a mischievous twinkle lit in his eyes.

"Didn't he always have some sort of saying about trying?" It startled an actual laugh from Ana, possibly the first one to do with the memory of her Father in a long time. Han smiled affectionately.

"Be careful up there, Kid," he said softly, "don't go and get yourself killed." Ana smiled wanly at him, her expression faltering at the knowing look he gave her. "I mean it, sweetheart. You make it back."

"I can't promise that," she finally said softly, meeting his eyes. He sighed heavily.

"Well, do it anyway. Come back from this," he ordered gruffly. It took her a moment to find her voice again, fixing him with an intent look of her own.

"You too, Uncle Han." The corner of his lip tugged, his expression softening.

"And—and may the Force be with you," he finished quietly. She couldn't manage to answer that, not that he seemed to expect her to. He simply shot her his trademark crooked grin, giving her a wry salute that she didn't hesitate to give back.

Then they parted ways, Ana toward her fighter and Han back to the diagnostic station to finish getting the  _Falcon_  ready to lift off.


	20. Chapter 19

When coming from where the  _Falcon_  was berthed, Ana's fighter was first on the left, just past Poe's on the opposite side. She had almost reached the fighters when Finn jogged past her toward the  _Falcon_ , a grimly determined look on his face.

"Hey," she called out as he passed, unable to resist, "Good luck, Finn. I hope you find your friend." He hesitated, managing a small smile.

"Thanks," he answered back, his head tilting a little, looking as though he was trying to remember something, "good luck to you too." Confused for a split-second by the odd look on his face, she pushed the thought away as he turned and continued on.

As she jogged past Poe's fighter, BB-8 was already starting it up, safely ensconced in his socket. But as she passed, Ana couldn't help but hear a faint buzzing from the ventral starboard engine hub. Gesturing up at BB-8 to shut it down, she was under the S-foil and opening up the panel almost before the engine had even cycled off. All it took was a little poking around and there it was: a loose connection on the repulsorlift gyro. She sighed in exasperation; that's what he gets for throwing all those really low altitude twists and turns. She had the same problem after developing her feint, but had learned to check the connectors before and after each flight, or at least get her tech to check it. Obviously Poe didn't…at least, not as regularly as she did.

"What are you doing to my fighter, Adyé? Trying to get rid of me?" Ana grinned, adopting an innocent expression as she peeked out at Poe.

"Of course. Why else would I be loosening the fuel injection modulator; hand me a micro-spanner, would you" she said back, absolutely deadpan, earning an amused grin from Poe as he ducked under the S-foil to see what she was up to, snatching up the requested tool and placing it in her waiting hand. She gestured to the repulsorlift gyro connector. "It was buzzing as BB-8 was cycling it on. I imagine you were noticing your rear-quarter repulsorlift wasn't firing quite as quickly or that you were having to amp up the power to get it to the output you needed?" He nodded thoughtfully as he inspected her work. She hit him lightly on the shoulder, but still hard enough to make her point. "You should have been checking this, Dameron, especially given your fondness for in-atmosphere acrobatics." A look of embarrassment flitted across his handsome face. Then he turned to her, fixing Ana with a look, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

"That's why I have you around. Though, don't you have your own fighter to prep, Adyé?" She shrugged as she retracted the connector housing back into the engine hub before closing up the access hatch.

"My fighter's already in tip-top shape, Commander," she said patronizingly back. He fought back a grin.

"So you decided to work on mine?" Ana tried to scowl at him. It didn't work.

"Well, you obviously weren't, and it would have been embarrassing for all of us if our squadron commander went and crashed himself over a silly thing like a repulsorlift gyro connector. Anyway, you should be honored; I'm still the best tech on the Base. I'm actually surprised you haven't been insisting I look after your fighter; you're weirdly attached to it," she teased. "Besides, I've grown rather fond of you, Dameron." She felt her cheeks warm the instant the words were out of her mouth. It had been meant as another playful remark, but it came out far more serious and meaning far more than she had intended. Apparently Han's talk had gotten to her.

Yet, she couldn't say she didn't mean it. Not considering the fight they were heading into. Her Uncle had been right; the odds weren't good on this mission, and everyone knew it. Poe's eyes turned serious even as he chuckled. In a blink-and-you-miss-it move, he ducked in to lay a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks, Adyé," he said lightly, though there was nothing light in his expression, "you take good care of me." She understood, nodding in acknowledgement before ducking in just as quickly to lay a soft kiss on his lips.

"You're welcome," she said softly as she pulled away, "I'd hate for you to explode." A genuine laugh burst from him and before she could react further he leaned in to place a longer, more ardent kiss against her mouth, his hand rising to cup her cheek.

"Be careful out there, Ana. Don't do anything too reckless," he added as he pulled away before retreating from beneath the S-foil. Her cheeks quite warm, Ana followed, glancing up at him as he clamored into the cockpit of his fighter.

"Same goes for you, Poe," she called up to him, earning a quick, jaunty salute in reply before Ana too was off toward her own fighter.

N3 warbled with encouragement from next to her X-wing's port thruster as Ana walked up, drawing a small smile from her. Even he sounded nervous. Scaling the ladder, Ana was up on the fuselage and doing a quick check on the upper starboard engine's intake when she caught a glimpse of movement over her shoulder. Sitting up, she looked over in time to see the  _Falcon_  lifting off. A strange feeling of melancholy washed over her as the old freighter rotated, the engines coming online before she was pulling away from the planet. Ana forcibly shook her head to clear the sensation away, scolding herself for giving the feeling any thought. It was just her worry about the mission. It was dangerous; there was always a chance that not everyone would make it back…virtually a guarantee in this case. It was a reality of war. She was letting herself get distracted.

Over the Base comm a warning sounded that the fighters were to be ready to depart in another five minutes. An anxious flutter settled in Ana's chest. It was nearly time. Behind her the mechanism that lifted N3 into his socket clunked and whirred, and as Ana scurried back toward the ladder, N3's dome popped up into sight, the green and silver droid chortling excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting there," she laughed back at his entreaties to hurry up, "but I need my helmet, don't I?" In an instant she was back on the duracrete, turning to snatch up her helmet and gloves from the rack where she'd left it. She started as it was being held out to her almost as soon as she turned around.

The General gave Ana a reserved smile, one that Ana could understand perfectly. With a tempered smile of her own, Ana took the helmet, her flight-gloves neatly tucked inside where she left them. There was a lot left unsaid between them in that moment. Ana had to fight back the urge to hug her Aunt, suddenly longing for one of the warm hugs Leia would give her when she was a child. Her nerves were grating at her, reminding her constantly of the stakes of the coming battle. It was all or nothing.

If they failed, D'Qar would be destroyed and the Resistance lost. Sure, it would probably go on for a time; there were plenty of operatives, Admirals and Commanders who were away from the Base who would take up the fight, but it would lose its heart without Leia. And Ana knew just as surely as though her Aunt had said it aloud, that the Alderaanian Princess wasn't about to abandon the Base, not even when others had suggested it as a precaution.

Then there was the reality that Ana was particularly aware of that she might not make it back herself. There was a good chance that none of the fighters would make it back even if their mission succeeded. They were going up against nearly impossible odds. It didn't stop Ana from convincing herself that they'd succeed in their mission and they'd make it back with minimal losses, but it was a truth she couldn't manage to ignore entirely…not this time.

"Be careful, Commander. Don't do anything too reckless," Leia finally cautioned after a moment of trying to decide what she wanted to say. It meant so much more than those few simple words, especially since Leia couldn't say what else she might have wanted. Not for the first time Ana couldn't help but wish, just for a moment, that she didn't feel such a need to keep it quiet that they were family. Ana managed a grin for her Aunt, surprisingly not feeling the urge to make some sort of quip in response. Instead she simply nodded.

"Yes, General," she said simply. Nodding to herself, satisfied as she could be, the General stepped back, turning away from Ana. Then Leia's lip quirked as she started to walk away.

"Oh, and Commander, " Ana looked up from fishing her gloves out of her helmet at her Aunt's voice, "remember, if you crash my fighter, you have to fix it." Ana smiled widely for real, chuckling at the long running joke between her and her Aunt.

"Of course, General," she said cheerfully as she signaled up at N3 to fire up the converters. Around them, any of the other fighters that weren't already running were similarly spooling up. With a final laughing grin, Leia turned away, hurrying from the landing pad as the other fighters around her were beginning to lift off from the duracrete.

In moments Ana was securely nestled in the cockpit of her fighter, her helmet in place as she quickly tugged her gloves on, fingers flexing to get them settled comfortably on her hands as she lifted her own fighter off the ground.

"Black Leader, the  _Falcon_  has landed," the comm echoed in her ear before giving the final clearance for takeoff. With one final look around the familiar green-bermed Base, Ana guided the starfighter up and through the atmosphere along with entirety of Blue and Red Squadrons. As soon as the final checks and roll call were dispensed with, it was simply a matter of waiting for the order. In moments they were all clear of D'Qar's atmosphere, the bleak emptiness of space with its pinpricks of light arrayed before them.

"All fighters clear," Ematt's voice called over the Comm.

"All teams, altitude confirmed," Poe's voice quickly followed, "Hold for jump to lightspeed on my go." Around her, Ana could see the squadrons forming up in preparation for the jump.

"Copy that," Bastian echoed, voicing the squadron's response. Asty replied too with: "Roger. Lightspeed."

"Is there any other speed?" Ana bit back a snorting laugh at Snap's dry quip, the recon pilot's snark barely audible. It did the trick, though, easing some of the tension, even if only marginally. Even Poe's chuckle was audible. All too quickly though, he sobered and the order was given.

They were off to Starkiller Base.


	21. Chapter 20

Then they were waiting, every pilot sitting on pins and needles, anxiously anticipating the order to drop out of lightspeed and engage their target.

All they were waiting for was for Command to get confirmation that the Base's shield had been disabled. A mantra had begun circulating through Ana's head, returning no matter how many times she forcibly shoved it away.

_C'mon, Uncle Han, we're counting on you_.

And then it came.

"Black Leader, go to sublights on your call." It was as though a collective breath was released as Rear Admiral Gulch's voice came over the Comm. Ana shifted in her seat as though waking from a torpor, suddenly feeling wide-awake. If the faint sound of scuffling and shuffling making its way through the hyperspace interference was any indication, she wasn't the only one, either.

"Roger, Base," came Poe's voice, calm and focused as Ana was sure hers wouldn't be just at that moment, "Red Squad, Blue Squad, Take my lead." Flicking a few switches in preparation to drop out of hyperspace, Ana was quick to acknowledge for her squadron as Nien Nunb did for Blue.

"Dropping out of lightspeed," she confirmed as she hit the control, watching as whorl of hyperspace returned to starlines before she was back in Realspace.

And there it was in all its immense and intimidating reality.

Starkiller Base.

In moments the Resistance fighters were racing for the planet's surface at full throttle, not a single grumble about having to engage in-atmosphere combat offered even in an attempt to lighten the mood. This mission was far too critical for the same level of banter many of their missions enjoyed.

As they approached the oscillator through a gauntlet of high, ragged mountain peaks, Poe's voice came over the comm again almost as soon as the huge black structure was visible through the clouds.

"Almost in range," he called. Ana adjusted a few more systems, bringing her missile systems online. "Form up. Lock S-foils and ready your proton torpedoes."

"S-foil's locked," Ana recited in response along with nearly everyone else, almost unconsciously hitting the control to set her S-foils as she checked that her blasters were primed as well as her torpedoes. Ahead, around and behind her, the S-foils of her squadron-mates' fighters locked into place as they tightened their formation for their imminent blitz attack on the oscillator.

"Hit the target dead centre, as many runs as we can get." The calm in Poe's voice had given way to intent determination as the fighters reached their attack speed, the imminence of the attack making any sort of reserve impossible. Ana grit her teeth, finalizing her last minute adjustments before falling in beside and just below Snap's port wing.

"Approaching Target," Snap confirmed, followed quickly by a second acknowledgement from Nunb. Then Poe, still in the lead with Ziff and Nien flanking him, initiated their first attack run. With nearly perfect choreography, they were rolling in to their final diving approach following Poe's orange and black fighter. As one by one they leveled off, they were each positioned perfectly. Their speed worked entirely to their advantage, the First Order caught off guard enough that the first couple laser blasts only whizzed harmlessly past them when they were already right on top of the target.

"Alright, let's light it up," Poe called, a trace of eagerness brought on by adrenaline evident in his voice.

"Right behind you, Black Leader," Ana said as the first of the proton torpedoes were fired before pulling back on the trigger herself. She managed to get off three, like many of her squad-mates, before she was pulling up just shy of the resultant explosions and peeling off in order to circle around for another pass, Red Seven falling in on her port wing. Each and every one of her torpedoes hit the centre of the oscillator structure almost perfectly. And hers were far from the only ones.

"Direct hit," Bastian crowed.

"But no damage," came Asty's frustrated voice. Ana peered back at the oscillator over her left shoulder as he said it; he was right. The dozens of torpedoes they'd dropped had caused minimal damage. She bit back a frustrated groan of her own.

"So we make another run," she called back, not sure where the excess of determination in her voice had come from. She couldn't help but grin at how confident she suddenly sounded. It certainly made her feel better.

"Yeah, we gotta keep hitting it! Another bombing run! Remember, when that sun is gone, that weapon will be ready to fire! But as long as there's light, we got a chance." Ana flicked a few switches as Poe spoke, angling her fighter around, prepping for another run as she soared around to face the oscillator again. Behind her, N3 was whistling and chattering off a system update when his perfunctory beeps and chortles gave way to a series of screeches and whistles. Looking over to the vector he'd called out, she fought back a flicker of apprehension. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed the incoming TIEs.

"Guys, we got a lot of company!" Poe cried out. Ana grit her teeth, racing through options in her head.

"Red Squadron with me," she bit out, forcing herself not to jerk her fighter around to face the incoming enemy fighters, "we make our run. We have to keep hitting the oscillator."

"Blue Squad, let's give them some cover! Engage the fighters, keep them off Red Squad." Poe caught on quickly to her train of thought, "Once they make their run we'll make another and they can cover us."

"Copy, Black Leader," Ana confirmed even as Red Squadron was acknowledging her own order, "Red Squad, let's make this fast." As she swung her fighter around with Red Squadron tight on her tail, she caught a glimpse of Blue Squadron and the TIEs clashing, the air thick with blaster fire and debris, fireballs blooming as fighters on both sides fell victim to their enemy's aim. If Ana's quick assessment was right, there were at least six TIE squadrons converging on their position. She swallowed back a surge of nerves, refocusing on the oscillator and avoiding the turbolaser fire that they had to contend with this time around. Taking a deep breath, she sent her fighter into a sharp dive, the rest of Red Squadron close behind.

It took an immense amount of willpower not to grow disheartened at the realization that their second run accomplished little more than the first. Ana's bit her lip hard to keep from groaning in disappointment as the oscillator still appeared largely undamaged even as fires burned in patchy profusion across the breadth of the structure, clustered around the centre. It was simply too large a structure and too heavily reinforced.

"What I wouldn't give for an exhaust port right now," Ana ground out with rather wistful frustration as she pulled away from the oscillator back toward the fighting. Over the comm Poe actually laughed.

"Aren't you a little young for that, Red Leader?" Ana couldn't help but grin as she adjusted her scope.

"Yeah, but we've all heard the stories, Black Leader. We've all heard the stories." He could only laugh in response. But then she was engaging the enemy fighters as Blue Squad broke off for a run of their own, forcing her attention to focus on staying alive and picking off as many of their opponents as possible.

"Alright, Red Squad," she said, forcing the confidence from a few moments before, "Blue kept us well looked after; let's return the favour." A chorus of agreement, nearly sounding excited, echoed over the Comm, drawing a grin from Ana as she dumped her fighter into a shallow spiraling dive, landing her in position to take out two TIEs before she was peeling off to chase down another pair closing in on Red Three. She managed to evade another TIE and finish off two more before she caught a glimpse of another wave of conflagration blooming across the oscillator's surface.

"Okay, Red Squad; your turn again," came Snap's voice over the Comm.

"Those Missile Towers are starting to look pretty lively," Ziff called out next in warning, "watch your back!"

"We've got maybe one more solid run left before they get those cannon stations warmed up," Poe confirmed. "Make it count Red Squad." Giving the command, Ana's Squad was quickly formed up and heading in for what was looking to be their final formation attack.

Just as Ana let loose her torpedoes, a seeker missile blasted past her cockpit, her fighter's wake causing swirling vortices in its crisp, blue-grey exhaust trail. The missile towers were live. Over her port wing, she caught a glimpse of Red Nine's fighter disintegrating in a fiery cascade. She forced the flash of grief that pressed against her chest to go away; there would be time enough to grieve if she survived this. As the remains of her squadron pulled away from the oscillator again, a second seeker downed Blue Two just ahead of her, drawing an involuntary gasp from Ana as she forced her fighter into an abrupt turn to avoid the flaming debris flying from the fireball that bloomed ahead of her.

"If anyone sees a chance to make any more runs, take it," Poe was ordering as Ana's fighter curved in to rejoin the fray, her squad breaking formation to reengage themselves, "we need to keep hitting the oscillator." Ana grit her teeth as a missile exploded close enough that her fighter shuddered from the blast. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when N3 assured her there was no damage.

They were overwhelmed. They might have all the Resistance fighters engaged, but it looked like the First Order had sent out all the squadrons they had too. At least two more had joined the fight. Ana fought not to flinch away as a turbolaser blast flashed past her, forcing herself not to jerk her fighter around in response. It was a good thing too, as a second volley passed through the space she would have occupied if she'd given into the instinct. Those towers were deadly. And it wasn't just turbolasers either, but missile cannons as well. Their fighters were holding up well enough against the TIEs, and the turbolasers were relatively simple to evade, but the fire from the cannon missile towers was just one element too many, especially as the missiles were seekers and thus had limited tracking abilities.

"We have to do something about those towers," she muttered as she dropped her fighter below Jess' to come round and strafe the pair of TIEs following Lek. One of them erupted into a fireball while thick black smoke began pouring from the engine conductors on the second. "N3, see anything that could help us?" The green droid warbled in acknowledgement behind her, his practiced eye analyzing the towers even as Ana scanned the ground herself. There were powerlines and relays spidering out from the fortified structure every which way, but no sign of a control station. Off in the distance, she spied a familiar-looking shape perched jauntily atop the snowy rockscape, but Ana forced her focus away from the thoughts the  _Falcon_  inspired. She needed to concentrate on her mission, not her Uncle's, and right now her mission necessitated taking out the oscillator's weapon and defense system. Below her, Ziff managed to get in a few lucky shots, taking out one missile tower on the northern perimeter of the oscillator as he pulled away from a bombing run, but there were too many other towers for the loss of one to make any great impact.

Behind her, N3 started chattering eagerly, directing her eye off toward the Command Centre nestled in the crags high above the oscillator. Below it sat a pair of twin turbolaser towers. She nearly didn't catch on to what N3 was pointing out, but when she did, a thrill went through her. It was so deeply embedded in the cliff-face that in the dimming light Ana nearly missed the tiny outpost positioned below and between the towers. The real giveaway to the station's function lay in the positions of those twin turbolaser towers; they appeared at first glance to be covering the Command Centre, but they were positioned just a bit too low for that to be their sole mandate. It had to be a relay station, one that funnelled power and firing control directly to the primary weapons embankments from the Command Centre. It had to be, especially given the huge transmission lines descending toward the oscillator's defense systems from that ridge. Ana bit her lip as she chased down three more TIEs before deciding it was worth the risk. That was all it could be. A power and control relay station. If she could take it out…the problem lay in the twin turbolaser towers. She needed help.

"Dameron," she blurted as the black and orange fighter dashed past her, her mind suddenly whirling. He was the only one with the level of skill—and the pure nerve—to attempt such a risky attack with her.

"You called, Adyé?" he quipped back, his fighter coiling through a deep turn to take out a TIE on Red Four's tail. Ana took care of the enemy fighter she'd been following, giving Blues Seven and Three an opening to make another bombing run.

"There's a relay station up on the hill, below the Command Centre." It was a moment before he responded, likely because he was taking a look himself, assessing what she'd spotted.

"Weapons relay?" Ana pulled her fighter into a sharp curving climb to avoid another missile. Distantly another one of their fighters was blasted apart, Jess' stressed voice naming it as Furillo. Ana glanced back toward the Relay. She couldn't be completely certain, but it was better than nothing.

"Even if it isn't, there's got to be a reason for those towers covering it. It'd make a lovely bang, whatever it is," she offered. Poe fell in on her starboard wing for a moment. He was quiet, though, as he considered options of his own and the risk she was suggesting as the pair of them flew in formation for a moment, taking out a swath or TIEs as they circled the oscillator to come around to face the cliff.

"What do you say, Adyé; your feint, my dive?" he suggested eagerly after a moment. He read her mind. She grinned, slamming the throttle forward, her fighter leaping ahead. Poe was right behind her.

"Why not?" she threw out, adjusting her ship's systems for what she was about to try. She was going to need to pull off a dangerously tight, fast dive immediately after recovering from her feint for this to work. Over the comm a few of the other pilots were exclaiming in disbelief or crying out their encouragement.

"You two are crazy!" Lek cried out. Ana's grin widened as the thrill of what they were about to attempt surged through her. They were in range. She adjusted slightly to avoid an incoming volley. Whoever was controlling those towers was starting to get nervous, their volleys growing more erratic. She imagined someone in the Command Centre too was likely beginning to panic; it had to look like she and Poe were rushing the Command Centre.

"That's why we're the best," Poe laughed out, "ready, Adyé? Your call." Adjusting her scope one final time, Ana let her mind go blank of everything save the towers and the station. She waited to the last possible moment.

"Now," she cried, gunning her fighter forward and up, drawing the fire of one tower as she sped up past the Command Centre just as Poe twisted his own X-wing into a complex spiralling dive to draw the fire of the second before Ana threw her fighter into her feint. As her thrusters roared back online and her fighter righted she was darting in toward the relay station before the turbolaser towers had a chance to recover and swing back around to follow her.

All it took was two well-placed torpedoes and the Relay Station was nothing more than a billowing gout of fire, rock and smoke as Ana and Poe raced back out into the fray.

Around them their fellow pilots whooped and cheered as one by one, in quick succession, the Missile Cannons and even a few of the turbolasers went off-line. Poe flung his fighter into a barrel roll, taking out two TIEs as he did, as he too whooped in celebration. Ana grinned, pulling her own X-wing around and dropping low to see about making another bombing run; she still had torpedoes left, so why not use them now that they only had the turbolasers covering the oscillator to worry about. But she didn't get a chance to put her run into action.

She froze, a deep ache blooming in the centre of her chest as though a chunk had just been torn from her heart; a sensation like something was suddenly missing, leaving her feeling hollow. For a heartbeat her lungs refused to work, feeling as though they were collapsing in on themselves, threatening to take her ribs, her chest, the rest of her body with them. Somehow she knew what it meant.

"No," she breathed, unable to draw breath for anything louder. She felt numb, the sounds of the harried voices over the comm fading as though lost underwater. Someone was asking her what had happened, what was going on. She couldn't hear them.

She knew. Somehow she  _knew_  what had happened.

Kylo Ren had killed Han.


	22. Chapter 21

Ben had murdered his own father.

A sharp, painful breath spiked through her chest as her body suddenly remembered it needed air and hot, burning tears were began to gather in her eyes. She could barely see, let alone concentrate.

"Adyé, look out!" The shout over the comm jolted her from her trance just as N3 shrieked, alerting her to the pair of TIEs coming up on her rear quarter. With a gasp she made to evade the volley of laser fire coming her way, not even bothering to think, just letting her instincts take over as she hauled the fighter into a tight, curving, twisting roll. Over the comm, one of the other pilots cheered as she managed to avoid most of the laser fire.

But it wasn't quite enough. She'd been too distracted and a split-second too late to react. She couldn't help the strangled cry that escaped her as her X-wing pitched and shuddered under the impact of one lucky shot. N3 screamed as the tail end of the volley caught her lower starboard engine, shorting out the reactant injector as the motivator on the primary drive module was fried. Her console was suddenly lit up like a firework display, with warnings flashing, alarms shrieking and even the odd spray of sparks and band of arcing lighting up the cockpit.

It took every ounce of skill and luck Ana had to keep the fighter airborne, but that wasn't going to last long. One by one her engines were failing.

And then they were gone. As the X-wing plummeted, Ana was desperate to keep it level. Not only had she already been flying fairly low, but she hadn't exploded yet, and she still had some power so there was a slim chance she could make it out of this mess.

She just needed to land the fighter in—mostly—one piece. As the ground shot up to meet her, Ana was doing everything she could think of; rerouting what was left of auxiliary power to the repulsorlifts, closing up her S-foils, angling what was left of her shields, throwing everything the damaged fighter had left into keeping it nose up and belly down.

Somehow it plowed in the ground without completely disintegrating, skidding across the snow, the rocks and trees protruding from the thick powder scraping and screaming along the hull as trees and branches splintered and shattered as the fighter crashed through them. Even after the first bone-shattering impact, Ana was still fighting to hold on to what little control she had in effort to keep the little ship from breaking apart. But at the second one, one of the laser cannons was ripped clear off along with most of the S-foil attached to it, the resulting jerk causing the fighter to abruptly careen sideways, smashing Ana into the side of her cockpit, leaving her dazed. After that second impact, Ana was only barely aware of desperately wrestling with the stick and doing everything she could to keep the X-wing from flipping or getting outright torn to pieces.

With a final wave and shower of snow, and a rain of shattered stones, the fighter groaned to a sudden, sharp halt.

Ana blacked out.

She wasn't sure if she was out for a second or an hour, but awareness slowly returned with a faint, indistinct whisper. But it was the distinctive, concussive sound of a not too distant explosion that jolted her completely awake with a ragged, painful gasp, followed by N3's frantic chattering. The air breezing into the open canopy—or was it shattered—sent shivers through Ana as it kissed her exposed skin and tried to work its way down the back of her flight suit. No, the canopy was open, though the plexi was fractured nearly to the point of opacity with one panel missing entirely. Ana was tilted forward almost enough to touch the forehead of her helmet to flight controls. With a groan she straightened, only to have a lightning bolt of agony flash across her shoulder and down her arm. It felt like her right collarbone was broken, and possibly her arm on the same side; probably from when the second impact smashed her against the side of the cockpit. She bit back a cry as she popped off her harness. Yup. Definitely broken. Gasping down huge lungfuls of the crisp, cold air, Ana attempted to push back the waves of nausea that threatened with every minute move she made.

Distantly she heard her comm chattering away. Her helmet was slightly askew, resulting in the earpieces sitting just off her ears and into her hair. Straightening her helmet with her good hand, the transmission came back into focus with what felt like an explosion of sound.

"Does anyone have a visual on Red Leader?"

"I have an impact trail, over here—"

"Red Leader do you copy?

"Adyé!"

"I think I can see the fighter. It's pretty beat up."

"Adyé, are you okay?! Do you copy?" Ana's head throbbed with the cacophony of voices all talking over one another. It took her a moment to sort out what was being said and another to get her voice working again. Overhead one of the Blue Squadron fighters dipped in close, trailing a TIE, risking a look at Ana's X-wing before peeling away to shake the First Order fighter.

"Canopy's open, but I couldn't get a good enough look inside. It's getting too dark."

"Red Leader, do you copy?!"

"I copy," Ana finally managed to respond, her voice shaky but somehow loud enough to be heard. She winced at the sudden influx of relieved and even admiring transmissions over the comm.

"You are one damned good pilot, Adyé!"

"First that feint, then that! No kidding!"

"—I didn't even think it was possible to save a landing with that kind of damage—"

"—your title might be in danger, Black Leader— "

"—haha! Maybe we need another competition! Let them duke it out—"

"You okay, Adyé? That was a pretty incredible piece of flying." It was Snap's question that Ana finally picked out and understood, though she suspected that some of the other pilots had asked the same thing, their individual queries all blending together. Ana heaved herself from the pilot's seat, needing two separate attempts to haul herself from the cockpit alone before she could shimmy somewhat carefully to the ground; no easy task given that she had one good arm and, at minimum, a broken collarbone on the other side.

Thankfully, with the way the fighter had tipped and the snow had been accumulated by the fighter's slide, it wasn't a huge drop to the ground. Her adrenaline levels skyrocketed from where they'd been from the battle as the reality of her situation began setting in. She was grounded on an enemy planet that her squad-mates were even now trying to blow up. It was not a good place to be. She managed to stand, needing to lean against her fighter for support at first given how unsteady she felt just in that moment, and began to survey the desolate winter forest-scape around her.

"I'm alright," she finally said, "but I'll be better once I figure out how to get off this rock. I have no intention of staying here, that's for sure." Ana turned slowly, thinking quickly as a few of the other pilots threw ideas back and forth over the comm on how to help. Somehow she thought stealing a TIE fighter in this situation was a little far-fetched…no matter the odd appeal of the idea.

Beside her, a little unsteady descending from the top of her X-wing, N3 was still chortling away worriedly. Ana shot him an attempt at a grin, hoping to reassure the green droid; she hurt too much to truly smile.

"I'm fine, N3, really. We just need to get out of here." After all, she wasn't dead yet, so she might as well try to stay that way. He warbled again. It was a testament to Ana's distraction that she didn't catch what he said right away. Overhead, one of the other pilots—Bastian maybe?—seemed to have the same realization as N3, reminding Ana of the familiar shape she'd spied earlier in the battle just beyond the woods she was now stranded in. Faintly, she recalled fighting to angle her X-wing in that very direction; she hadn't even realized until just now that she'd been doing it.

"The  _Falcon_ ," she breathed. N3 chittered and whistled with relief, "I'll get out on the  _Falcon_ ," she said louder into the comm. Almost as soon as she did, at least two of the pilots were volunteering headings and approximate distances, earning a faint but grateful smile from Ana before returning their full focus on the mission, the comm chatter turning back exclusively to the assault on the oscillator.

Not willing to waste any time, she stumbled off into the woods in the direction she'd been given, a heading N3 agreed with.

After barely more than a couple minutes, she felt like she had been staggering through those woods forever even though she logically knew it hadn't been very long at all. But each jarring step and trip was quickly narrowing her focus until it took all she had to convince herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. More than that, it was getting steadily darker, the sun's light dying as Starkiller fed from it, making her way even more treacherous. She couldn't quite feel the cold anymore, and suspected she was going into shock. She could feel a warm trickle creeping down her cheek and her neck that didn't quite feel like sweat, so she knew she was bleeding somewhere and a searing ache on her left side was beginning to make it hard to breathe. Absently she berated herself for not grabbing the medpack from her fighter, but it was pointless to think on it now; she certainly wasn't turning back.

She had to reach the  _Falcon_. The last transmission she'd received through her fighter's comm before she was out of range had been Ziff, Poe and Bastian talking about a new hole in the oscillator complex and a last ditch attempt to take advantage of that development. She suspected that the explosion that caused that hole might have been the one that jolted her back to consciousness. She's lost comm contact only a few moments ago—though it felt like much longer. She was dying to know what was happening with her squad-mates in the skies above, especially as the battle seemed to have moved higher up into the atmosphere, which certainly helped with her resolve to push on. She needed to reach the  _Falcon_. N3 warbled encouragingly, pushing on ahead of her. It was getting dark, fast. The sun was nearly gone.

But just when Ana was starting to wonder if they were even going in the right direction, the wood thinned and abruptly cleared. N3 began whistling and chirping in delight. Seeing the  _Falcon_ perched in the clearing up ahead was nearly the most beautiful thing Ana had ever seen.

And then the sky lit up and the ground began trembling beneath her feet, pitching and lurching as a massive explosion came from the direction of the oscillator. Since she had long lost her fighter's comm signal, she couldn't know for sure, but she was fairly certain their mission had just been accomplished. She only allowed herself a sigh of relief, though.

Gathering up what was left of her strength, Ana struggled forward, pushing on the last few hundred feet. Up ahead the boarding ramp was already lowered as though waiting for her. She wasn't sure if she'd ever been more grateful for her squat companion when N3 raced ahead to make sure the interior ramp hatch was open by the time she reached it.

Staggering up the ramp, using her good hand to brace herself, Ana was single-minded in her focus to reach the main crew cabin, hoping that during its transfer from owner to owner, the Medkit hadn't been moved. It was a simple enough mission complicated by the alarming tilt of the  _Falcon_  from how it had landed.

As she caught sight of the kit tucked neatly away in an alcove just beyond the Dejarik table underneath the new bunk she nearly burst into tears, she was so relieved. It took N3 rolling over and taking hold of the Medkit alongside her, though, to yank it out of its niche; she was barely able to keep her feet just then, much less heft the substantially sized case from where it had been stowed.

Having dragged the Medkit out of its niche, she collapsed against the bulkhead next to it, barely able to catch her breath. As the adrenaline coursing through her system began to wear off, the grinding, scalding pain from her collarbone and upper arm grew exponentially while the ache in her side throbbed, prompting nausea to once again roil up in her belly and black spots to shudder before her eyes. With a monumental effort, she managed to slip her helmet off one handed, wincing when it jostled her injured arm but grateful not to have static from the comm unit trying to make a connection with the  _Falcon_  crackling painfully in her ears.

It took every ounce of concentration she had left after struggling to shuck her FreiTek unit and flakvest to dig through the kit, grabbing at a bone stabilizer and any stim-shots and analgesics she could find. She didn't even bother with the diagnostic scanner; she knew what was broken and she knew what to do with the supplies at her disposal. She choked out a cry as the bone stabilizer went to work on her collarbone, its low-power energy field analyzing then providing temporary alignment and stabilization for the broken bone. She only had one of them, though, so her arm was going to have to wait. She didn't think that one was as bad, though—a crack in the bone at most, not a true break—so she figured with the stim-shots and analgesic inhalants she'd be able to cope.

But even with the painkillers and mild adrenaline boosters, the pain was excruciating, the meds needing time to take proper effect, especially with the bone stabilizer still working away to properly position her collarbone.

Plus the meds did nothing to combat the heartache.

Growing desperate as she clawed through the pain to stay conscious, Ana gave into her instincts and wrestled her way past her one resolution. Closing her eyes and pushing away the pain, she struggled to find that one, quiet, comforting place in her mind that she'd been pretending she'd lost all those years ago. Ana leaned back against the bulkhead, feeling nearly delirious with relief when she found it.

She opened herself up to the Force.

It flooded through her like a gentle sunrise washes over the horizon, seeping through her thoughts and flesh like the warmth of a comforting hearth fire or the memory of her mother's embrace.

It was her mother's embrace. Tears sprang to Ana's eyes that weren't borne of pain.

She could feel her. She'd been waiting. Ana could swear Athara was beside her, softly stroking her sweat-matted hair and holding her close. She sank into it, letting the Force and her mother's presence cradle her and dim the pain, both that of her body and her heart.

But then she felt it.

There was another; someone else reaching out and calling on the Force.

_Help her, Ana_ , whispered her mother's voice. Ana couldn't tell if she'd actually heard it, or if the words were more of a feeling. But it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that she'd heard it. Ana made a decision then, one she didn't even think to make, relying on her feelings to choose for her. She reached back. She could swear she felt Athara smiling her familiar wry smile.

It was a girl, and she was locked blade to lightsaber blade with Kylo Ren. She could feel the darkness of him as intimately as though he were standing beside her. Her stomach roiled, but she pushed thought of it aside. She brushed against the girl's consciousness. Startled at first, the girl hesitated at the two new Force-signatures suddenly pressing against her own, fearful of their intentions. But then she gave herself over to the Force, and let them in. Ana could feel her own Force potential surge forward, bolstering and steadying the girl's immense but untrained power, lending her focus.

She felt the girl's eyes open.

Ana saw him. There was no mask, just her cousin's face looking intently down at the girl, his familiar gaze almost pleading. Ana could swear she was looking at him out of the girl's eyes; she could see the reflection of the lightsabers in his dark, forceful gaze. More than that, he was pressing his mind against the girl's; searching, urging. She could see in his face when he sensed the Force surging to Rey's call, a tiny crease appearing between his brows as a startled frown bloomed across his face.

And then he sensed her.

"Ana?" It was barely spoken, little more than a confused exhale, but Ana heard it, saw his mouth form her name. She could see the recognition flash in his eyes as they widened fractionally with shock as he recognized her Force-signature mixed with the girl's. Part of Ana wanted to quail away, suddenly fearful that he knew she was there, but Athara's bolstering presence gave her courage. Without conscious thought, Ana let the Force flow through her, pouring what she had into the girl, feeling Athara lending knowledge along with Ana's strength.

She felt Athara show the girl what to do. She felt her mother guiding each stroke of the girl's blue blade, helping her push Ren back with every swing and parry. Part of Ana revelled with satisfaction when the blue blade slashed first into Ren's shoulder, then his thigh and finally, after slicing through that infernal quilloned lightsaber hilt, up across his face, causing him to collapse into the snow.

But another part of her wanted to scream and sob all at once, her chest tightening with the urge. The look of shock and fear on his face as he looked up at the girl was the face of Ana's cousin, her best friend, her brother; Ben's face, not Kylo Ren's.

Force, she had never seen anyone look so lost and alone.


	23. Chapter 22

As the girl stood looking down at Kylo Ren with Ana watching through her eyes with her, the moment seemed to drag on for eons.

But then the ground beneath the girl trembled and bucked, the planet's growing instability splitting a chasm through the ground between the girl and Ben.

Beneath the  _Falcon_  too, the ground shifted, jerking Ana out of the trance she'd fallen into at her mother's encouragement.

Blinking rapidly, as though waking from a deep sleep, Ana was suddenly very aware again, her gaze flicking over her surroundings, faintly disoriented when she realized she was in the  _Falcon_ 's familiar common area and not in the middle of those starkly ominous woods. She began to wonder if she'd passed out, if it had all just been a pain-induced delirium, a dream.

Had it been real?

She realized then, thanks to her much clearer thoughts, that she was no longer in quite so much pain as before, the excruciating ache of her broken bones dulled by the meds while the soreness in the rest of her body faded to more manageable levels.

Nearby, N3 warbled questioningly, his tone decidedly worried. She reassured him half-heartedly, nodding absently when he told her he'd patched the  _Falcon_  into the Resistance comm channel and was about to link her helmet's comm with the  _Falcon_. Whistling lowly, he trundled off to the communications station in the common area, plugging in and resuming his work. She didn't doubt the compact green droid would have her patched in in a heartbeat. Ana leaned back against the bulkhead again, her thoughts shifting back to the scene in the woods. Could that have been real? Was her mother really there?

But she'd already automatically closed herself off from the Force again, the habit too long ingrained to just switch off. A faint flicker of disappointment went through her, but she pushed it aside. It was better this way.

The comm in her helmet crackled loudly enough that she could hear it from where it lay beside her hip, the faint sound of voices emanating from the earpiece. Gasping a little in discomfort as she shifted and twisted in effort to grab it, she propped the helmet up between her knees and her chest, not quite willing to move any more than necessary yet. N3 rolled up beside her, whistling lowly. He'd obviously managed to connect them, but was reassuring her that the connection was stabilized anyway.

"Adyé, are you still out there? Please copy. Did you make it to the  _Falcon_?" They were looking for her. Poe was looking for her, his voice was one of the most insistent among the others. A feeling of warmth lit in her chest.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm on board," she said, her voice scratching in her throat. She could swear she heard the Commander's sharp exhale of relief among the mess of other thankful voices.

"Listen, Adyé, you gotta get out of there. We have orders to pull back from the planet, but we're not leaving you or the  _Falcon_  team behind." he said over the others, and quickly the others took up the advice, recounting that Poe had taken out the oscillating station and that they were watching the planet begin to destabilize before their eyes.

"It's not a suggestion, Commander," Poe cut off the others, his tone authoritative, "You gotta move, now!" Ana nodded, shifting again, trying to convince her sore body to follow his order. The ache in her side flared.

"Copy that, Black Leader," she ground out, biting back a hiss as she inadvertently tried to use her injured arm to help get to her feet, "working on it."

She jerked again, her nerves on a hair-trigger, at the sound of someone hurrying up the boarding ramp. Automatically she grappled for her blaster, struggling to yank it out of its holster, her helmet rolling off her knees to fall with a heavy clank to the floor. She was just bringing the weapon up as Chewbacca rounded the corner into sight. She couldn't help the shaking exhale of relief as she recognized the wookiee. With an alarmed bark and rumble, he was soon kneeling beside her, checking over her self-applied first-aid. She waved him back.

"I'm okay for now, Chewie." He shot her a look that said he didn't believe her. She shot him back a stern glare, hauling herself to her feet with the wookiee's help even as the ground shifted again, "There's no time for that now, anyway. We have to leave. The planet's destabilizing." The pair of them dashed for the cockpit, Ana having to force back a stab of heartache as they both hesitated at the door to the cockpit.

Fighting past it, Ana strode forward, doing her best to wake up the  _Falcon_  as fast as she could with only one hand. Pushing past his own grief with a sad moan, Chewie was quickly helping her and in moments they were lifting off. As Ana concentrated on doing her best to help the wookiee fly the ship with one good arm and a second nearly useless one, Chewie rumbled intently at her, turning the ship back toward the forest. Ana shot him a startled look.

"Finn and who? Chewie, what—do you even know where they are?" No sooner had she asked that than she knew. Somehow the wookiee saw that in her face, levelling her with a knowing look. Swallowing thickly, trying not to think too hard on just how she knew, Ana took over the controls as best she could. After a few moments—seconds, really—that felt like anxious hours, she pointed toward the shadowed border of the woods, carefully, her feelings telling her  _there_.

"There," she repeated out loud, but Chewie was already lowering the  _Falcon_  to the ground. He then switched over the controls to her, and Ana instinctively angled the freighter so the boarding ramp was facing the right direction. No sooner had he left her in control than Chewie was out of his seat, already on his way to the boarding ramp. Ana held the  _Falcon_  so she was almost near enough to the ground to fully land without actually touching down, gritting her teeth at the ache grinding up her injured arm at the strain. But they needed to be able to get out of there fast, and that meant not properly landing. The landing gear hadn't even been deployed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the shadowy forms dashing for the ramp. All she needed was the signal from Chewbacca.

That signal came in the form of a roared exclamation to go, but Ana was already pulling the  _Falcon_  up. A heartbeat later she was swinging the nose around and punching the throttle, forcibly ignoring the pain piercing through the effects of the analgesics. They were already peeling away from the crumbling planet when Chewie made it back into the cockpit, all but diving into the pilot's seat to help Ana. Around them, great pluming gouts of earth and smoke and ash were billowing into the air, the currents jostling the aged freighter, while intense glowing explosions burst from the Base and out of cracks splitting the ground.

"All teams, I got eyes on 'em," came Poe's voice over the comm.

And then there was an escort of X-wings falling in around the  _Falcon_.

As she heard the other pilots' relieved exclamations, Ana couldn't help but sigh heavily in relief herself. Behind them Starkiller Base was imploding, the planet consumed as the sun's energy ruptured free, the shockwave causing the  _Falcon_  to shudder. Beside her, Chewie barked in morose satisfaction. It was a sentiment that Ana shared exactly.

Part of her felt lighter now that they were safely beyond the dying planet's range, but another part of her was growing heavy with grief again now that her attention was no longer focused on making it away alive. The comm crackled a bit with interference from the cataclysmic devastation falling away behind them before Poe's voice transmitted through.

"Our job's done here. Let's go home," Poe said triumphantly. Ana wholeheartedly agreed, the coordinates already set in the navicomputer. But as Chewie sent the  _Falcon_  careening into hyperspace, Ana felt something in her chest wrench apart.

She barely heard it when Chewie sedately related that N3 and the girl were looking after Finn, who was apparently very badly injured. Ana could feel herself pale as the wookiee described the lightsaber wounds he'd caught a glimpse of as he carried the former Stormtrooper on board. All she could see before her sightless eyes was Ren—her cousin Ben—stabbing her Uncle, his father—or was it her mother—maybe it was even Finn—with remorseless, cruel intent—or was it pained determination, his face contorted with agony. She couldn't keep it straight anymore. She couldn't quite tell which images were real memories and which her mind was supplying to fill in the horrible blanks that she both desperately wanted filled and anxiously wished never to know.

She was brought back from the nightmarish trap her thoughts were becoming as, beside her, Chewie began talking quietly. She had never heard the wookiee sound so quiet or so heartbroken. She listened in silence as he told her what had happened on Starkiller, from the time they had landed to deciding to use the explosives they had in one last ditch effort to help the fighters destroy the oscillator…and then he told her what happened on the gantry. She didn't want to hear; it couldn't be worse than what she was imagining. But she couldn't tell him to stop either. She couldn't tell him that she'd known the instant it had happened what Kylo Ren's blade had done. She didn't have the will or the energy. So Ana just listened as Chewie's voice broke as he tried to tell her what had happened, unable to say the word the first or even the second time.

And then he told her what he'd done.

He'd shot him. Ana's eyes slid shut and she half expected tears to start sliding down her cheeks. Her eyes were dry. The guilt and sorrow in Chewie's voice was too much, too big for tears. Hearing him confess that, in his rage and pain when Han—when Ben—when it happened, he'd fired his bowcaster at Ben, hitting him in the side? Something in Ana felt like it was breaking. Who for, she wasn't sure. She knew how much Chewie loved Ben, how much he still loved his best friend's child. That he'd been so blinded by grief, so mindlessly enraged…oddly, Ana knew to a lesser extent precisely how he'd felt.

"I nearly opened fire at him on Takodana," she said, cutting off the stream of Chewie's guilt-laden confession, "I could have shot him; taken him out; prevented this—kept him from—But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. Not then. Now—" her voice broke. She felt so hollow, "—had I been in your place—" she still didn't know. She didn't even know what she was feeling anymore. She suddenly felt too small for the scope of the emotions trying to settle within her. It only hurt.

It was like losing her mother all over again.

A sad, crooning sound came from Chewie, causing Ana to look up. The look on his face caused Ana's eyes to prickle and burn, her chest constricting at the kindred sympathy and anguish in his dark blue gaze. Choking back the lump of sorrow rising in her throat, she reached out, laying her hand on his warm, hairy arm. After a moment, the wookiee's large hand covered hers. They spent the remainder of the hyperspace jump like that, taking what solace they could from knowing the other was hurting just as badly.

As they came up on D'Qar, the analgesics were beginning to wear off, as was Ana's control over her emotions. But, gritting her teeth, Ana forced herself through it, helping Chewie get the  _Falcon_  safely get back on the ground. Once they managed that and she was off the ship—preferably somewhere quiet and alone—then Ana could let herself fall apart.

With the two of them at the controls, the  _Falcon_  was soon settling on the landing pad. As the  _Falcon_ 's primary drives began to cycle off, Ana leaned back in the co-pilot's seat, letting out a loaded breath as her will to fight through the pain weakened with her relief at having made it back. She couldn't even restrain the pained whimper as she pulled her injured arm close, cradling it against her body with her good arm.

A concerned grumble from Chewie drew Ana from the haze of pain she was beginning to sink back into, his heavy paw-like hand brushing against her good shoulder as he stood from his seat. It took her a moment to clear her throat, but she did manage to wave him off before she was actually able to form any words, gesturing loosely back toward the main cabin where she knew Finn and the girl were.

"No. It's not that bad; the stim-shot is just wearing off. But if you don't get Finn to the med-techs soon he's going to die. I'll manage, Chewie." A second, stronger worried grumble emanated from the wookiee, but he did listen, disappearing out of the cockpit. A few moments later, she caught a glimpse of him tenderly whisking the former Stormtrooper into the waiting arms of the med-techs pulling up on the transport outside. Withholding a groan as she tried to move, she let her eyelids droop as she settled back into the familiar co-pilot's seat instead.

Out beyond the cockpit, she could already hear the growing chorus of congratulatory shouting and relieved celebration. Ana didn't feel it.

Her uncle was gone, just like her mother.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned her head back against the headrest, feeling what energy she had left bleeding from her body as if out of an open wound. Her heartbeat was echoing in her ears.

"Ben, how could you do it…why…" She barely realized she'd said it aloud, hearing the grief clouding her own voice before understanding that the question in her head had made it out into the open air. She still couldn't believe it.

The sound of hurried steps and an anxiously calling voice once again drew her out of the pain of her fractured arm and the growing throb inside her skull.

"Ana." There was no hiding the relief in Poe's voice as he slid in beside the co-pilot's seat, dropping down as best he could next to her after quickly shedding his bulky FreiTek unit and flakvest. His one hand gripped her uninjured shoulder while the other one hovered over the bone stabilizer as he peered anxiously over her, taking stock of her condition. Nearly as quickly, the fingers of Ana's good hand had buried themselves in the fabric of his flightsuit, holding on for dear life.

And then the tears came. Startled when the first hiccupping sob tore from Ana's throat, Poe nevertheless recovered quickly, almost bodily pulling her from the co-pilot's seat against him, gathering her as carefully as he could into his arms as he sank into the communications chair behind the Pilot's seat. He just held her, hand rubbing soothingly over her back and letting her sob, not quite knowing why she sounded like her heart was breaking.

Ana jerked in his embrace when another, smaller hand brushed against her sandy-blonde hair. Reluctantly pulling back from where she'd buried her face against her pilot's neck, she looked up at the similarly grief-torn face of General Organa.

"Aunt Leia—" It was all she could manage, but it earned a faint, watery smile from the General. Behind her, Chewie lingered just outside the cockpit, watching mournfully.

"I know, sweetheart," Leia answered quietly, her own voice cracking as though the effort was nearly too much for her. Dimly, she could feel Poe's start of surprise as she weakly pulled away from him into her aunt's waiting arms. But he didn't entirely let go, his hand still wrapped securely around her waist. It was a minor comfort to feel Leia's arms enclosing her the way they had when she was a child and a similar comfort to know that here at least, like Chewie, was someone who felt the gaping hole of Han's death on a similar level—a personal level.

But as Ana's strength waned, Leia's arms tightened to keep her from falling. A blinding starburst of pain exploded from Ana's fractured arm and collarbone at the pressure, blazing through her battered body and ripping a weak but tortured cry from the young pilot. Distantly, as her world faded and the pain prickled and scorched mercilessly through her, she felt Poe's hand tighten on the back of her own flightsuit.

With a start, Leia drew back, her General's poise firmly back in place despite the terrified alarm written all over her face. Just outside the cockpit, Chewbacca rumbled with worry. Steadying Ana with one hand, Leia absently reached toward the wookiee.

"Chewie—" But she didn't even have time to finish her thought, because Poe had already shifted and, with a grunt of effort, pulled Ana back into his arms again and lifted her with an arm beneath her knees and another around her back, heading out of the cockpit for the boarding ramp.

It was only thanks to the constant, relentless flashes of agony as she was moved first from the  _Falcon_  and then on to the medical centre that kept Ana anywhere near close to conscious. Her vision wavered and spotted, her head and body ached and her thoughts were alternately spinning and grinding to a halt so fast it was dizzying. Distantly she knew she was near delirious, but one moment she was unsure where she was and the next she was certain she was in her mother's arms before she was recognizing the medical centre's distinctive ceiling. And then 2-1B was leaning over her, a bright light flashing over her eyes.

Then she was sinking blissfully into unconsciousness, distantly realizing they must have administered a sed-shot or some other sedative. But she no longer cared. All she cared about was that the pain was finally fading.

The last thing she remembered before she sank into sleep was the sound of Poe refusing to leave her side and the feel of his fingers tightening around hers.


	24. Chapter 23

Ana knew nothing for a long while.

And then she did.

Suddenly Ana was wide-awake, the Force humming around her. Next to her, Poe stirred in the chair he was slumped in as she sat bolt upright on the medical centre cot, not realizing that she wasn't alone.

With a groan she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, as though that could erase the vibrant image that still felt tattooed inside her eyelids. She didn't even notice at first that she was able to use both hands mostly without pain, her injuries feeling markedly better; the med-techs had obviously done their work while she was unconscious.

The dream occupied her thoughts fully.

The dream of a harsh, ancient island and a feeling… a call, a  _push_. Something, a deep, unconscious  _need_  deep in her gut telling her she needed to go. That  _she_  was needed.

All overlain with a feeling of sadness…and of hope. Feelings so potent they made her heart ache and her chest cramp.

The taste and smell of dry, hot air rasped in her throat, her lungs, a nearly volcanic, metallic tang mingling with the familiar and unmistakable sickly-sweet scent she'd long come to associate with bacta solutions coating her mouth and nose, making her stomach lurch. Her skin even prickled with memories of needles and the mild electric currents used in atrophic-prevention treatments…

"Dammit! It's a Force dream; it's always been a Force dream," she muttered irritably to herself, frustrated and dismayed that she never realized it before.

"Ana?" She was jerked from her thoughts at the sound of the Commander's voice, only just realizing that he was there. Poe straightened where he was sitting beside the cot, scrubbing a hand over his own face as though to clear away the drowsy expression. He hadn't even changed out of his flightsuit. "What are you talking about? What dream? The island one?" She'd nearly forgotten she'd told him about the dream. It had haunted her for years; a beautiful, lonely island in the middle of a vast, endless sea; calling, sad and patient and hopeful, but always calling to her.

She'd just never considered it was a Force dream.

Abruptly, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry.

What was happening to her?  _Why_  was it happening to her?

Hadn't she been through enough? Hadn't she lost enough? Everything from the past few days was suddenly flooding back, from the horrible images her subconscious had begun to conjure as Chewie told her what had happened on the gantry on Starkiller Base to the memories Poe's unburdening over the massacre of Tuanul had dredged up.

Memories of blood and lightsabers and betrayal. Everything she'd been fighting to forget.

And now she'd lost her Uncle too. One of the few people she had left that she truly cared about. Who'd known everything about her. Who had helped her build herself back up after her life had been torn apart around her. Who she trusted. Butchered. By the cousin she'd once loved as a brother; by Ben, who the Force had corrupted and stolen away from her just as completely as though he'd been killed too.

The scar across her torso prickled and a dull, smoldering ache beneath her ribs pulsed angrily.

Wasn't it enough that the Force had destroyed her family? Her cousin? Her life? She could feel herself beginning to shake, her palms clamped against her stinging eyes as her breath began to catch sharply in her chest.

What more could it want from her?

All she wanted was to grieve in peace. Not go chasing after whatever it was the Force was so insistent waited for her on that damned island.

Especially not if it was what her clenching gut suddenly suspected was there.

Or rather, who…

If he needed her so badly, he should've just come back.

A hand landing gently on her back startled Ana from her suddenly spiralling thoughts, causing her to jerk at the touch. She looked up to see Poe standing at her side, his touch light and still over her shoulder blade, cautious not to startle her any more.

Sucking in a few sharp breaths, Ana was abruptly aware that she had been on the verge of a panic attack. She hadn't had a panic attack in years, not since those first few weeks when she would wake screaming as the memories from that awful night replayed with vivid and horrific clarity through her dreams. Images that even now joined those left from Starkiller—manufactured ones of that horrific moment her Uncle confronted Ben or of her cousin ordering the massacre on Jakku, and the gut-wrenching real ones from when Ben had looked down at her through the girl's eyes—magnifying the heart-wrenching ache settling deep in her chest…

…the screams…

…the silence…

…faces she knew looking at nothing, bloodless and still…

…the horrible, mad glint in her cousin's eyes as he stepped over her mother's body toward her…

…the heat of the flames on her skin, the cracking roar sharp in her ears as the Academy burned, swallowing the screams she had felt more than heard and the body they'd never find…

…the desperation and terror scalding through her even as a mad grief took hold, her mother's lightsaber hilt warm in her hand from her mother's grip…

…the sear of his blade as it slashed across her body…

…waking up to learn that everything she'd known was gone and that her father had just…left…

…waiting…waiting…waiting forever for him to come back…

…but he never did.

All of it was rushing forward. Every feeling, every memory. All bubbling to the surface, all of it breaking, ripping, shattering free. Every breath was an aching, bitter sear down her throat, her eyes prickling as tears blurred her vision and the memories grew sharper to compensate.

Pain lanced into her palms as her nails bit deep and she tasted blood as her teeth cut into her lip.

Poe just watched her as she struggled to regain control of herself, his brow furrowed with helpless concern but not quite knowing how to help with the internal battle she was engaged in.

"What do you need," he murmured once her breathing had begun to calm. Inhaling deeply, her head slowly began to shake as she looked up to him, absently reaching out to grasp at his sleeve as though the gesture would make her world feel steady again. His handsome face was drawn with worry, barely restrained questions lingering in his dark eyes. Her chest clenched as one more painful, horrifying thought ripped through her mind as she looked up at him.

Was she going to lose him too?

In that split-second, she knew she should end whatever it was they had, whatever it was their friendship was beginning to evolve into. To spare him…to save him. To spare herself.

But that thought? It hurt almost as much as the idea of losing him, the very idea leaving her feeling cold and…and lost. No. She couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't lose him too.

She  _needed_  him. She was too selfish to let him go. She couldn't bear it.

Because he made her  _better_.

And something in her broke.

And then his arms were around her, his hand cupping her cheek as he murmured near wordless comfort as he brushed light kisses across her forehead, her hair, her face.

She was falling, falling, buffeted by pain and grief and guilt and remorse, all of them tugging and pulling and clawing at her. She was just falling. And shaking. Badly. Shaking and falling and coming apart at the seams.

But he was there to catch her.

He hadn't even hesitated to pull her tight against him as dry, gasping sobs shuddered through her. She felt like she was about to shake apart, every muscle and every bone in her body feeling like it was quaking and spasming beneath her skin.

But no tears came.

There was just too…much.

It was several long moments before she began to still, wrestling control back from her frazzled and overwrought emotions and the harsh grip of her memories as Poe simply held her, the low hum of his voice soothing, his lips brushing against her hair. They had hit too hard and too fast for her to manage as she usually did; pushing them aside, burying the feelings and the memories away that she couldn't bear to acknowledge.

But the last few days? Something had changed, shifted. Whether it was something inside her or a product of events set in motion around her, it had left Ana completely unbalanced, leaving her at the mercy of things she had long convinced herself were contained.

She'd been wrong. Totally and completely wrong. And it was beginning to tear her apart.

But she had to push through. She knew she did. Starkiller might have been destroyed, but it was far from over.

The First Order would be coming.

There would be time to grieve when the fighting was done, she reminded herself, the internal voice reciting the words sounding suspiciously like her Aunt.

Once again drawing in a deep, albeit trembling breath, she leaned further into Poe's embrace, letting herself relax against the comforting solidness of him for another moment before forcing herself to pull away.

"I'm alright," she finally managed to say, her voice soft and hoarse and weary. She felt so very tired. A small, wan smile tugged at the corner of Poe's mouth.

"Should I believe you?" he asked just as softly, a thread of teasing to his tone. Inadvertently Ana found a small laugh escaping her as she pulled back further, looking up at him with the ghost of a weak smile curling her lips. A far more genuine, relieved smile spread across his face at her inadvertent reaction, obviously taking it as a good sign.

"I'm fine," she repeated firmly. Not that the assurance entirely dispelled the concern lingering in his eyes. Or the questions she swore she could almost see just longing to burst out. Questions she knew she wasn't going to be able to answer without losing the tenuous control she'd managed to regain as he'd held her. Mercifully, he seemed to realize that too.

Taking a deep breath, brushing her now loose hair back from her face—someone had taken out the remnants of the handful of banded ponytails she favoured for keeping her sandy-hued hair under control beneath her flight helmet; a style her Grandma Padme had introduced her to—she looked up at Poe, forcing her thoughts into some sort of order so she could head him off. "Status update?" Her question was brisk and subtly demanding. She knew he knew what she meant and that he knew what she was doing. She could see it in his face. But after a moment he decided to just go along with it, crossing his arms firmly over his chest as he visibly debated just how to answer.

"You're still recovering, Adyé. That can all wait for now." She quirked an eyebrow at him, not quite believing he was really pulling that on her.

"Come on, Dameron," she said dryly, "whenever our positions here are reversed, I always answer you when you ask that question." He shrugged.

"Not always," he hedged. Ana huffed, frustrated that he was being so stubborn, but also grateful; it felt normal, this. And just now, 'normal' was precious.

"Update, Dameron," her voice grew sombre as one question she wasn't sure she wanted answered floated to the forefront of her thoughts, "who'd we lose." He sighed after a moment, obviously giving in, and settled himself next to her on the cot, his shoulder brushing against hers.

"We don't even have a quarter of the fighters that went out to Starkiller left," he admitted, no words for the level of sorrow in his voice, "seven fighters made it back, plus you." Ana fought back a choking sob. So many lost. She couldn't even bear to ask who the seven were; it'd be more efficient than asking who they'd lost. She'd find out soon enough. She leaned against Poe, trying to show her commiseration without the words she couldn't find, faintly comforted when he leaned gently back, his arm lifting to wrap around her shoulders. She looked up into his face, but he was looking across the medical centre, his gaze distant. Following the track of his dark, troubled eyes, she caught sight of a still form lying with monitoring machines of varying types arrayed around him. It took her a moment to realize it was Finn. A girl— _the_  girl—sat next to him, her knees drawn up tight to her chest on the chair next to his cot, her eyes locked on her friend yet still distant. As though reading her mind, Poe started speaking again.

"2-1B says he's going to make it, but that there's still some significant damage to heal; he has no idea when Finn will wake up." Ana's hand found Poe's again, lacing her fingers through his. She could hear the worry in his voice. Though he barely knew the former Stormtrooper, Poe already counted him as a friend, and he'd taken Finn's actions to rescue him from the First Order Star Destroyer to heart, feeling a debt there that he might never be able to repay.

But before either of them could say or ask anything more, Dr. Kalonia and the General approached virtually out of nowhere, having been summoned by the tech Poe had sent off while Ana was lost fighting off her panic attack. Leia's eyes were fixed on Ana, her expression one of questioning concern. Ana managed a faint smile. It didn't entirely banish the worry from her Aunt's face, but the expression did ease.

"You had us worried, Commander," Dr. Kalonia said mildly, shooting Poe a friendly but pointed look that asked without words for him to move. Catching Ana's eye for a moment, Poe reluctantly obeyed, rising from the cot's edge to stand next to the General. Ana had to fight back a sudden flicker of disappointment as he had to let go of her hand to do so. The doctor then turned her smile to Ana as she began a quick examination to see how she was recovering.

Save for a lingering ache that spanned the area from the base of her throat down her right arm from her still healing bones and a lingering twinge on her left side just below her ribcage that the Doctor couldn't explain, Ana felt nearly as good as new. Her head ached a little, but she suspected that had more to do with after-effects from the pain medications and sedatives that were finally fading out of her system. Even her heartache seemed a little better, though she suspected that had more to do with the necessity of focusing on the doctor's round of questions and on the fingers checking the new stabilizer on her collarbone and poking and prodding at her other injuries—apparently she'd had several badly bruised ribs in her right side as well, plus a minor concussion—and the combined presence of both her Aunt and Poe watching her with thinly veiled concern.

"I must say, Commander, given what I've heard about what you went through on Starkiller, I'm surprised you're not worse off," the Doctor said in her characteristic soothing tone, a hint of admiration threading through it. Ana allowed herself a small but satisfied smile.

"Well, I am the best pilot in the Resistance," she said almost seriously, fighting back a wince as Dr. Kalonia moved her arm just a fraction too far. Behind Kalonia, Poe was suddenly spluttering in indignation. Ana fought back the urge to grin. It was far too much fun to goad him. He really did buy into it every time. The doctor shot her an amused look even as the Commander shot her an exasperated one.

"The best? You crashed your fighter!" he exclaimed.

"Hey!" she interjected defensively, "It survived. I managed to save the fighter…" she pointed out "…mostly," she reluctantly amended. "A little work and it would've flown again…if, you know,  _you_  hadn't blown it up." Poe stared at her with astonishment, his mouth hanging open. Her Aunt was struggling not to laugh, her dark eyes relieved and even on the verge of twinkling. The doctor couldn't quite hold back her own chuckle as she stepped back from Ana after laying a satisfied pat on her uninjured shoulder.

"You're patching up well," she concluded, her gaze flipping around from Ana to Leia to Poe and back to Ana, "if you take it easy and rest, and you'll be back in top form and flying again in a couple days. Nothing strenuous until then, though," she added firmly, "you need to let those bones finish healing." With a brief nod to the General, Kalonia retreated, leaving the two Commanders and the General alone.

As soon as Kalonia left, Leia's gaze mild gaze sharpened with worry again.

"What happened," she asked gently. Ana instantly knew what she meant. Ana had never crashed before, not like that. She'd been hit in skirmishes before, yes, but never badly enough that she'd crashed. The deep-seated ache returned, casting a shadow over the small ray of light Ana had managed to grasp thanks to Poe's ribbing.

Her chest tightened once again at the memory. She shrugged, trying to brush it off as she had before. The movement made her wince, though, ruining the effect.

"I managed to fly into a laser bolt, I guess," she supplied lightly. The corner of Leia's lip twitched, but she fixed Ana with a stern look that did nothing to hide the worry in her dark eyes…or the heartbreak. Ana's chest tightened further, and suddenly she was holding back tears. The tears that had refused to fall before. Her eyes dropped as her Aunt stepped closer, a gentle hand coming to rest on Ana's good shoulder. A shuddering sigh escaped Ana; she couldn't hide the reason from Leia. Just as she couldn't hide it from herself.

She couldn't deny what had happened.

"I felt it," she managed to whisper. Leia's fingers tightened involuntarily on her shoulder. "I felt him die. I felt  _him_  do it." Her last words were little more than a pained breath, but Leia heard it anyway.

"Oh, Ana," she breathed, "I'm so sorry," Ana's eyes shot up to her Aunt with shocked bewilderment.

"What?! He was your husband," she nearly sobbed, angrily swiping away the tears that were trying to escape; couldn't they have stayed away? "It's me who should be saying sorry!" She had blurted it out before she could stop herself, "I could have kept it from happening," she said miserably. Leia froze at the tone, her brow creasing with pained confusion as she looked down at her niece. Ana shrugged off her Aunt's hand from where it still lay on her shoulder, her arms wrapping tightly around herself. The ache on her right collarbone flared but Ana ignored it, the pain feeling oddly deserved. Her eyes slid shut, trying to block out the images of her Uncle's death her imagination was once again supplying. Then the image of Ren striding purposefully toward his shuttle flashed before her mind's eye. She bit back another dry sob, her hand rising to press against her forehead, as though to press the memory from her thoughts.

"Ana, what are you talking about?" It was Poe who asked the cautious question, his voice wary despite his obvious curiosity. Ana forced herself to look up to him and her Aunt. She let out a heavy sigh, steeling herself to tell them…to tell her Aunt.

"I had the chance to take out Kylo Ren on Takodana, and I choked."

"Oh, Ana," Leia breathed, her voice devoid of the horror Ana had tensed in expectation of. There was only more sorrow. She looked up at her Aunt, suddenly desperate for answers she didn't think Leia even had. But they were weighing on her almost as insistently as the guilt.

"Why couldn't I do it? I had him in my sights. I could have—but I didn't; I couldn't, even after everything he—" Her voice shattered. Leia's expression was almost helpless as she slowly shook her head, unable to answer. Poe had tensed behind the General, his thoughts sharp behind his eyes, but he gave Ana a sympathetic look.

"He can stop blasterbolts midair, Adyé. There's no guarantee that, had you taken the shot, he wouldn't have stopped it." Ana shot him a dark look.

"I doubt he could have stopped a torpedo…" she muttered involuntarily. She blanched almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Her eyes darted back to her Aunt, suddenly ashamed to admit she'd even considered such a thing, much less mentioned it in Leia's presence. Her Aunt's gaze was closed off, though she watched Ana carefully. Ana couldn't bear the scrutiny, especially unable to read her Aunt's mood as she was just now. Her eyes shifted to glance at Poe, only for the sight of the girl sitting next to Finn across the way to catch her eye.

Another thought suddenly surfaced in Ana's thoughts, distracting her from her guilt. "It had something to do with the girl," she murmured more to herself than anyone else, "he was carrying the girl and I couldn't do it. It had to be because of her, not him." As soon as the thought sprang to mind, she was trying to convince herself that was the whole truth, and not part of it. Leia's gaze grew sharp and she turned to Poe.

"Give us a minute, Commander," she asked softly, her tone nevertheless brooking no argument. Poe hesitated for a moment, his face showing his surprise and a flash of defiance, his mouth even opening to object. But at a pleading glance from Ana, his mouth closed. A mix of curiosity and understanding flashed across his features even as he reluctantly nodded in compliance. Sparing Ana one last worried look, he retreated from Ana's bedside. Ana tried to ignore the faint sense of loss at his sudden departure. But then her attention was back on Leia. Before the General could say anything in response, Ana was straightening, fixing her Aunt with a demanding look.

"You know…Aunt Leia, you know why…what aren't you telling me?" Leia sighed heavily.

"I don't know if I know anything, Ana," she finally said firmly, indicating that the discussion was over. Ana huffed, fighting against the urge to pout. But she was suddenly too tired to maintain her frustration. Leia settled on the cot next to her, a gentle hand coming to rub soothing circles across her back. Ana couldn't help but lean into the contact, exhausted.

"You had me scared, Ana-girl," Leia finally murmured, her voice thick with grief, "when it came over the comm that your fighter had gone down…I was so afraid that I'd just lost you too." Ana forced in a shaking breath before trying to give her Aunt a reassuring smile. It almost worked.

"I managed to land it. I walked away from it," she tried to sound upbeat, but then Ana sighed, unable to maintain it. "I'm a starfighter pilot. There's always a risk that I might not make it back…one I'm willing to take…I know it could happen…so do you." Leia managed a wan smile, unable to argue with Ana's point, though a sudden flicker of emotion Ana couldn't quite read surfaced in her dark eyes.

"I know, sweetheart. That doesn't stop me from worrying about you," A faint smile tugged at her lips as her tone turned momentarily wry, "Even knowing you're the best we have." Ana couldn't help it. A small, huffing chuckle escaped.

"Don't let Poe hear you say that…" she quipped with a small grin of her own, grateful for the moment of levity, however brief. Her aunt's expression warmed before growing serious again.

"I've always worried about you, Ana. Even before I promised to look after and protect you. Your father…your mother…Athara would have killed me if something were to happen to you." Her dry but surprisingly heartfelt mention of Athara nearly brought a smile to Ana's face. "Which is probably why she's been watching over you herself, and probably helping to keep you from getting yourself killed." Startled, Ana twisted to stare incredulously at her Aunt. Something in her gut clenched uncomfortably at the idea of her mother being a Force Ghost.

But she pushed it aside. What was the point of thinking on it? She was far better off having cut herself off from the Force, so what good would dwelling on the idea that her mother may or may not be a Force Spirit accomplish, no matter the pang of longing at the idea. Her mother was gone. She had watched Ben cut her down.

And she hadn't been there when the dust had settled and Ana had reached for her with everything she had, screaming and begging and searching through the Force for Athara.

She hadn't been there. And neither had her grandfathers or her mother's mentor, Qui-gon. There had been no one.

She'd felt…nothing.

It had been the last straw.

The Force had turned away from her. So she had turned away from the Force.

It held nothing for her. Nothing but pain and disappointment.

Still, obviously her subconscious was desperately clinging to the idea—she had managed to believe, for however brief a moment, that her mother had been there with her on Starkiller…or had it been real? She'd felt her Uncle's death, after all…and the destruction of the Hosnian System…she'd sensed Poe was in danger on Jakku…and that sense on Takodana… Her jaw clenched as reason tried to tell her she wasn't as cut off as she had convinced herself she was. No. No, she couldn't…she didn't want…if it was…

No. Her mother couldn't have been there.

It was more likely nothing more than wishful thinking. A delirium brought on by pain, grief and the effects of actively touching the Force for the first time since…no. It couldn't have been real.

Any more real than sensing Poe's danger, a small, sarcastic little voice that sounded like her Uncle grumbled, or sensing what happened to the Hosnian system?

Han's death?

She shoved it all away.

She couldn't have sensed her mother.

Not after all this time.

Leia gave Ana a knowing look as Ana started to object, desperation warring with denial next to her suddenly racing heart.

"I know she's still here, Ana. I can feel it. You can't honestly tell me you don't sense that it's true whether you refuse to touch the Force or not. She wouldn't abandon you like that. She couldn't have fathomed it. We…we may not have been on the best terms, but even I had to admit that when she cared about someone, your mother would do absolutely anything to protect them. She'd have burned the Galaxy down if it meant keeping you safe."

"Then why couldn't I feel her," Ana burst out brokenly, a sob threatening to escape along with the words, "why did she never come? Why haven't I seen her?" Leia's face nearly crumpled at the pain in Ana's voice. But she managed a small, certain smile regardless.

"Because you won't let yourself see her," she reasoned gently, fixing Ana with a knowing look as she took Ana's hand. "She's still with you, Ana. You just have to let her in."

Ana wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe every word, a tiny feeling in the back of her mind insisting it was true, her vision blurring as her breath caught in her throat.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't let it in again. I can't feel  _nothing_  again." Understanding broke over her aunt's face, her dark eyes growing bright. Leia brushed back a strand of Ana's hair before turning her to meet her eye with a gentle pressure on her jaw.

"You think it left you, That Night, the way your father did," Leia said softly, "that's why you cut yourself off." Ana couldn't hold her aunt's gaze, her warm brown eyes holding far too much understanding. Far too much sympathy. Her throat too tight with emotion to speak, her tears finally beginning spill over onto her cheeks, Ana could only nod. Leia sighed heavily, her hand dropping to clasp Ana's tightly in hers.

"It never left you, sweetheart. Just like Athara didn't. You just haven't wanted to see it." Ana looked sharply up to Leia, her chest cramping, her head beginning to shake in denial as her breath caught painfully in her chest. But slowly Leia nodded, her voice gentle and even faintly chiding as she continued. "Why do you think you can fly the way you do? The way your Grandfather could? You intuition in the cockpit? Your instincts? That's more than just your inheritance from him, and you know it. And after Starkiller? Sensing what happened to the Hosnian system? After—after Han? You're not as cut off as you try to believe, Ana-girl. You didn't really think you could turn it off completely, could you?" Ana choked back a gasping sob, her head still shaking, part of her desperate to deny the truth to her Aunt's words. Leia took that as the answer it was.

"The Force is part of who you are," she said, reaching out to brush her hand over Ana's hair, "on a subconscious, instinctive level. Even when you think you can't feel it? It's still there, sweetheart. Just as it was with Anakin. Just as it was with Kenobi and your parents. With me." Slowly, her breath still ragged, Ana turned to look to her Aunt. Leia's dark eyes glimmered in the soft light of the medical centre, gentle and warm and safe as her hand continued to stroke soothingly against her hair. Another gasping breath hitched through her.

Leia smiled sadly, her hand finally stilling. "It's time to stop shutting it out," she murmured. "Maybe it's time to stop running from who you are."

And then Ana was sinking into her Aunt's arms, Leia's embrace warm and comforting, her hand resuming its strokes over the crown of Ana's head as her niece trembled, holding back silent sobs.

But even as her Aunt comforted her, Ana couldn't help but wish it were her mother.

How she desperately wished her Aunt was right, and that Athara truly was there.

As though in answer, a soft breeze wafted through the medical centre, tugging lightly at the loose strands of her sandy-blond hair as Leia hummed quietly, soothing Ana the way she had all those years ago when they'd both lost the rest of their family. The way she remembered her own mother comforting her.

And it helped.


	25. Chapter 24

It wasn't long before Leia left the medical centre, her duties requiring her attention no matter her personal wishes. Leaving Ana alone. And as soon as she was alone, Ana was pulling herself from the cot and making her escape.

She couldn't stand to stay. Not without Poe or her Aunt or, well, anyone. Not left to the mercy of her own thoughts. Not without someone to force her to turn her thoughts from places she desperately didn't want them to go.

So she left, even knowing she probably shouldn't.

She didn't know why, but once she managed to evade 2-1B and Dr. Kalonia to escape the med-centre, Ana found herself retreating to one of the dusty, nearly forgotten corners of the Command Centre. Thankfully someone had thought to leave a set of clothes next to her cot for when she was eventually released—her burgundy leather flight jacket, a soft, high-necked dark shirt and chestnut breeches—so she at least wasn't sneaking around the Base in one of the awful med-centre robes.

She'd intended to find Poe or her Aunt or at the very least retreat to her quarters to sleep.

But instead she found herself kneeling in front of a familiar blue and white droid.

Artoo was silent. He'd been that way for so long that Ana was beginning to forget what the cheeky little astrodroid had been like when he was awake.

As she looked up at his large dark eye, Ana couldn't help but exhale in disappointment. She'd hoped—no, that had been foolish. Why would he wake for her now? He hadn't done so when she was fourteen and heartbroken that her family had been torn apart. He hadn't when she was sixteen and about to steal away on the  _Falcon_ , hoping to…well, do something. He hadn't woken when she was twenty-one and had finally returned to the Resistance.

Why would he wake up now?

Suddenly feeling exhausted from the constant state of pain and uncertainty she had been in for what suddenly felt like an eternity, Ana was soon leaning tiredly against her dormant childhood companion, her forehead resting on Artoo's compact metal body. There was a faint, rhythmic droning coming from beneath the little droid's outer shell, evidence that he was still active, or at least functioning on some level. Tears slowly began leaking from beneath her tired eyelids, creeping slowly down her cheeks. Her left hand came up to rest against the rounded torso, her fingertips tracing the grooves of his compartment hatches and interfaces. She hurt too much to deny her feelings in that moment, no matter how weak she knew she'd feel for admitting it later.

"I need my Father, Artoo," she whispered, struggling to keep from sobbing outright, "you have to know where he went. You have to."

A soft whirring sound grew in the hushed space around Ana and a quiet, consoling series of beeps jerked her from the heartbroken place her thoughts had been sinking to.

Her eyes snapping up, Ana found herself face to face with a very much awake R2-D2, the old droid humming comfortingly as his lights and readouts flickered back to life after his self-imposed dormancy.

Ana could only look up at him in astonishment, her lips parting in shock. She barely comprehended BB-8 nearly knocking into her as he rushed over, the orange orbiculate droid warbling excitedly. Nearly as enthusiastically, Artoo chirruped back, speaking too fast for Ana to follow in her shock and pain-fogged state. All she caught was something about thanks for triggering a sub-program of some kind. But Ana was too astonished to think on it further, so much so that she found it hard to breathe as Artoo came back to life before her eyes, to even register the familiar sound of Threepio's servos as he scuttled over himself.

"R2-D2, you've come back," the golden droid proclaimed with satisfaction. With a burbling answer, Artoo shifted, extending his third tread, careful not to hit Ana who still hadn't moved. He looked at her, his large, dark eye fixed on her as he warbled soothingly again before turning back to Threepio, his tone decidedly more excited. He was speaking too quickly again and Ana was feeling far too muddled to properly keep up with what he was saying, out of practice with his dialect as she was. She didn't get much of it. Though he had no such problems understanding, Threepio hesitated before responding, looking down with what could only be described as perplexity at his old counterpart.

"You found what?" Artoo all but snickered back, drawing an affronted reaction from the protocol droid. Ana nearly chuckled; that she'd understood.

"What? How dare you call me that," Threepio blurted back, giving his old friend a whack on the side of his silver and blue dome. Artoo snickered again, and beside Ana BB-8 joined in laughing at the golden droid. She couldn't help the smile that was slowly spreading across her face. It was just as she remembered, with Artoo teasing Threepio; it was like nothing had changed.

But then Artoo drew himself back on topic, chattering off something else too quickly for Ana to catch. Again, Threepio sounded perplexed, looking from Artoo to Ana and back again.

"Find Master Luke how?" Abruptly Ana was no longer on the verge of laughing, feeling the blood draining from her face. Artoo warbled and beeped again, slower this time, and this time Ana understood him.

When BB-8 had told him he had the Map fragment, Artoo had begun cycling on again.

Because he had the rest of the map.

Threepio shifted eagerly. "Come Artoo. We must go tell the others at once!" Artoo didn't need to be told twice, and neither did BB-8, both of them wheeling after Threepio as the protocol droid hurried off to locate General Organa. Ana sat where she had knelt in a daze, struggling to process what Artoo had said.

It took BB-8 bumping gently against her side to rouse her, the little droid having doubled back when he realized she hadn't moved. Feigning a faint smile at his eager urging to get up, she managed to get to her feet, a little surprised that her knees didn't give way on her. Stumbling after the trio of droids, Ana followed them out into the Command Centre proper, where Artoo's lively chortling—and general liveliness, really—was drawing all sorts of attention as he and Threepio headed straight for the General. The Command Centre was lightly manned, but the attention of nearly everyone remaining had been drawn by Artoo's sudden reappearance.

When Ana caught sight of her Aunt, Leia was standing alone in front of one of the tactical displays, though her bowed head easily told Ana that her Aunt's thoughts were far away. It took two tries for Threepio to get her attention, but it was Artoo's animated chatter that finally had Leia turning around, an expression of disbelief on her damp face that Ana could certainly understand.

"R2-D2 may contain some much needed good news," Threepio said gently, showing a rare bit of tact. Leia, still stunned, stared at Artoo for a heartbeat before glancing first to Threepio before her gaze settled on her niece. Ana didn't need to say anything, or even gesture to confirm the question on Leia's face; Ana's pale features and unusually bright eyes said it all. Leia turned back to Artoo, her voice containing a faint but distinctive trace of hope.

"Tell me," the General prompted, her relief and enthusiasm plainly visible. With a happy warble, Artoo rolled back past Ana, over to an open area of the Command Centre, trundling past the Jakku girl Ana had yet to actually talk to. Her steps hurried, Leia followed, Threepio close on her heels. The General paused at Ana's side though, laying a gentle hand on Ana's arm, sparing her niece a questioning look. Ana tried to smile reassuringly for her Aunt's sake, but couldn't quite manage it. Sparing Ana a sympathetic glance, Leia stepped around her, following Artoo.

Swallowing thickly, Ana forced herself to turn and follow too, brushing past Snap, Poe and Major Brance to stand just off to the side away from Leia next to one of the Command Centre's support columns, opposite where the Jakku girl sat. With a querying rumble, she felt Chewie come up behind her, just as drawn to Artoo's presence as everyone else.

Leia stopped next to Poe, who had been talking quietly with Ackbar and Snap next to the primary tactical monitor until Artoo had gone warbling past them. As Ana allowed herself to lean against the archway behind Threepio, next to Admiral Statura, she could swear she felt Poe's questioning eyes on her, but even his concern and the questions she could see straining to burst free or the step he took toward her before his way was blocked by his companions wasn't enough to tear her attention away from the old blue and white astrodroid. And quickly enough, even Poe was watching Artoo intently.

Burbling happily, bright blue light emitted from the old astrodroid's holo-projector, manifesting in a detailed starchart with what looked like a hyperspace route traced in red leading to a large blank section.

BB-8 peered at the map for a moment before racing over to Poe's side, bleeping excitedly, causing the Commander to kneel next to him as the little droid babbled away. Poe nodded.

"Alright, buddy, hold on," he reassured him, nearly dashing to the tactical monitor to retrieve Lor San Tekka's data unit from its interface, placing it in the data reader compartment in one of BB-8's tool-disks. Then, scurrying into place, BB-8 fired up his own projector, displaying the bit of map he and his master had been charged to find. Around them even more personnel had gathered. The Jakku girl had stood, watching the map nearly as intently as Ana and Leia were. The BB unit manipulated his section of the projection until it fit perfectly into the blank space, causing a hushed and excited murmur to go through the assembled crowd as every eye was fixed solely on the map.

But Ana felt like she was shaking apart inside, her chest feeling tight as the sound of Threepio stating conclusively that the map had been completed faded into nothing. The world around Ana seemed to go quiet.

She recognized it.

Ana recognized the map.

She had recognized it the instant Artoo's projection had initialized. She remembered her parents looking over this very map all those years ago. It had been missing a piece then too…the piece BB-8 had.

The piece Lor San Tekka had given Poe.

And abruptly a memory returned that she'd nearly forgotten—or perhaps she'd made herself forget…. A memory of Lor San Tekka's final visit to her parents…mere days before That Night…

"Luke," Leia nearly sighed, her warm eyes wide and bright and hopeful as she stared at the map to her brother. Around her, others began to smile and shift excitedly, word already being passed along to the back of the crowd that the Resistance had a way to find Luke Skywalker, the Hero of the Rebellion.

Ana wavered on her feet. She knew she should feel, well, something; happy, excited, anxious even.

But she felt nothing, she felt hollow. She turned and allowed herself to slide down the column, sinking to sit on the crate at its base. She couldn't look at the map anymore. Beside her Chewie rumbled worriedly, his voice nearly lost in the eager chatter that had risen up as soon as BB-8 had finished the map.

A gentle hand landed on Ana's shoulder. It took a great deal more effort than it should have for Ana to lift her eyes to meet her aunt's. The General looked down on her, her expression just as concerned as Chewie's tone. Ana's eyes slid back over her shoulder to look at the map, though she no longer really saw it.

"You've seen it before." Leia's voice was so low Ana barely heard it. She nodded once, the movement so slight that, had Leia not already seen the answer in Ana's eyes, she would have missed it.

"They were working on it," Ana answered back, her voice just as quiet, "I remember them working on it. They were trying to finish it. And then San Tekka visited…I'd forgotten. Dad—Dad was so excited…the very first Jedi Temple, he said…Mum too. They were…they were starting to plan… She was even working on it the night…That Night…I remember her holding it…" Leia squeezed Ana's shoulder gently, but she didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Ana could feel her emotions rising in her throat, threatening to strangle her.

She needed to get away. She needed air.

Choking back a pained sound, she stood suddenly, nearly knocking into her Aunt before elbowing her way through the crowd.

It was crisp and bright outside, the sunlight just on the verge of shifting to the warm tint of evening. She paused, forcing herself to breathe deeply and steadily. It was not easy.

After all this time, she now knew for certain where he was. She jerked at the thought, her feet moving of their own accord. She wasn't entirely sure where they were taking her, but she hoped it was somewhere quiet and deserted. Someplace where she could scream or cry or just curl up and succumb to the hollow, pained feeling growing in her chest for at least a little while before reality forced her to pull herself back together. She wove through the milling Resistance personnel.

It was then that she heard Poe calling out behind her, barely registering the sound of his voice just scarcely rising over the natural noise of the Base.

"Adyé!" She knew he was calling after her, but Ana kept walking, hoping he'd think she couldn't hear him. Ana wasn't sure she could handle talking to anyone right now, much less Poe; her emotional defenses seemed to count for little around him recently. She didn't have that luck. She could hear him chasing after her, pushing through the Command Centre personnel as he went: "Ana!"

His grip closed around her uninjured arm, turning her abruptly to face him.

"I feel like I'm always chasing you," he laughed. She looked up at him, fighting to keep her face neutral. He was grinning down at her, though his usually smiling eyes were solemn and worried. And determined.

"Maybe I'm trying to run away," she bit half-heartedly back.

"Not from me, I hope," he teased, though an uncertain shadow surfaced in his eyes as he said it. Ana deflated.

"No, Poe," she admitted softly, "not from you. From…from everything else," she added bitterly. It was only when Poe's grip on her arm tightened that she realized she had tried to step away. Still trying to run…maybe that was the true legacy of her family…the desire to run when things hurt too much…

She looked up at Poe, the plea for him to let go poised on her tongue. But the look he was fixing her with made it very clear he wasn't going to let it go. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened in the last few days. She swallowed back a dry sob, her jaw clenching. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have yet.

"Not now, Poe," Ana said softly, her tone hard, hoping he'd get the message. She saw in his face that he did, but he summarily ignored it.

"Yes, now. Why didn't you tell me," his voice was hushed, barely loud enough to for her to hear him over the din around them. Ana snapped her gaze away from him, unable to meet the nearly accusing yet inquisitive cast to his brown eyes. She kept her mouth firmly shut. But Poe was not one to be deterred so easily, causing her to silently curse the stubbornness of pilots.

"Why did you never say the General was your Aunt? Is she actually? You could have told me you were that close, Ana. Why didn't you? Did you think I couldn't keep it to myself? Or—or that I'd jump to conclusions about your place in the Resistance? Because I'd never do that. Never. Everyone knows you've earned what you've got—" Ana still refused to say anything, but her eyes jumped up to Poe's in panic as he rambled off his rapid-fire questions before flitting to anxiously scan the faces around them, astonished that even he could be so reckless. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when no one seemed to show sign of hearing what he'd just said. It wasn't the thought of people knowing her relationship with Leia that upset Ana.

It was the thought of people making the obvious association of precisely  _how_  she was related to Leia.

When her gaze flicked back to him, he was frowning in bewilderment, having trailed off when he recognized the upset panic on her face.

"Ana, what is going on with you? You're edgier than a Tatooine…" he trailed off, his eyes widening as the realization Ana was waiting miserably for arrived, "no, wait. Wait a second; Ana, you're not—" With a sound oddly like a growl, Ana grabbed Poe's wrist, cutting him off abruptly as she dragged him away from the milling personnel into a quiet corner of the nearest hangar bay, ducking in behind a stack of crates.

"Are you out of your mind, Dameron?" She said harshly as she swung back around to face him. Poe barely reacted to her livid tone, instead staring at her in awed disbelief, unable to move past his revelation.

"You're a Skywalker!" he blurted out. Ana hissed at him to shut it, but he again ignored her, his fingers suddenly gripping her shoulder to keep her from turning away again, "Are you a Jedi too?"

"I'm no bloody Jedi," she snapped, shoving his grip from her shoulder with her good hand. This time he did fall silent, finally realizing just how distraught she was. Poe studied her for a moment before continuing, deliberately speaking quietly, trying to sound as calming as he could. Ana was nearly vibrating she was so on edge, though whether it was anger or something else she wasn't quite sure. She wasn't keen on figuring it out, either.

"But you are Force-sensitive," he finally asked carefully. She could practically see his mind working, reconciling things he knew about her and things he'd seen her do, especially in the last few days, with this new bit of information. Ana forced herself not to grind her teeth at the question, weighing whether or not to answer him. She looked up at him again. And some of her anger bled away. This was  _Poe_. Sighing, she admitted to herself that he did deserve an answer.

And she found part of her actually  _wanted_  to tell him.

"Considering who my parents are, especially my Father? Yeah…" she said quietly. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her tone. Poe's expression was unreadable. Her gaze dropped to look, unfocused, somewhere past his right shoulder.

"So you are  _his_  daughter," the pilot confirmed tentatively, finally catching on to her concern about being overheard. After a moment she nodded sharply. Poe swallowed thickly, struggling to process this new development. "So he isn't the last Jedi."

"I told you, I'm not a Jedi." It wasn't as vehement as before, her tone deadening instead. He eyed her thoughtfully, before scoffing a little.

"But Ana—"

"I want nothing to do with them! I want nothing to do with  _him_!" she snapped again, her temper sharpening. This time, though, there was a thread of anguish laced through her words. She clenched her jaw shut. Poe just stared, surprised, though his eyes were beginning to harden as his own temper kindled.

"Ana, he's your Father! Surely—"

"He left me!" she interrupted furiously. She was so upset and agitated that she barely thinking anymore. She was at the end of her rope, and it was beginning to fray in her hands. And the words began to pour from her mouth without a single, conscious thought.

"When I needed him most he left! He trained Kylo Ren, okay? I knew him, I  _trained_  with him! I know his real name, the one the First Order will kill to keep quiet! Then Ben turned to the Dark Side and destroyed  _everything_! He killed everyone at the Academy, even my s—" she choked back another sob, her grief threatening to overwhelm the anger and the sorrow that had finally broken free. "Then…then I watched him butcher my mother and I couldn't stop it!"

Ana's voice cracked as she finally admitted to shadows in her past aloud, the memories she had tried to force herself to forget. Poe watched her silently, his own anger at her defensiveness melting away as she bared a part of herself he'd never been allowed to see before. Her fists clenched and her eyes squeezed shut, fighting to keep back the angry prickling she could feel building behind her eyes.

"I tried to help her," she continued, her voice wavering dangerously close to a sob before her voice grew sharp again, her eyes snapping open to fix mercilessly on Poe, "to stop him but he sliced her lightsaber in half right in my hands. Then he cut me down too and left me for dead! You've seen the scar, Poe; you're one of the only ones who have. You've seen how bad it was. He nearly cut me in two! My  _best friend_  did that, my  _cousin_! I should have died! Ben was my  _family_ ," she cried, "and he destroyed  _everything_!" Her eyes blew wide as her mouth slammed shut, horrified at what she'd let slip. Poe twitched, his eyes widening as the implications of her words sunk in.

"Ben?" he rasped out, "Ben  _Solo_? The General's  _son_?" This time a sob did gasp free, and Ana violently shook her head.

"No," she snarled. "No, he's not Ben anymore. Ben would never have killed my mother; he loved her; she understood him. And Ki—" Another furious sob ripped free, sounding more like an angry scoff before her anger faltered, Her shoulders hunching against the raw pain vibrating through her body, her arms wrapping tight around her torso. "My—my sister? She loved him  _so_   _much_ , and he adored her right back. Yet he burned the Temple down with her still inside! We were his  _family_ , Poe.  _I_  was his family! Ben would have  _never_  hurt me. We were like—like two halves of a whole." Her head fell to her hands as she fought to regain control of herself, to rein in the words pouring from her lips. In front of her Poe looked on in horror at everything she'd said, his own eyes growing bright at the visceral anguish she was fighting that he couldn't tear his eyes from.

"Your sister…Ana—I didn't kn—" His breath catching, he shifted, looking like he was about to reach out for her.

But Ana didn't want him to touch her. She didn't want anyone to touch her. She just wanted to find that isolated, quiet corner she kept thinking about and fall apart. She wrapped her arms back around herself, squeezing hard as though the action might force the memories and the words she'd set free back into the place she'd hidden them for so long.

When she continued, not entirely sure why she let herself keep talking, her voice was hollow, all the passion of a moment earlier gone.

"Then my father just left. He left me. My Aunt said they found me barely alive, that without the medical attention the Resistance could provide I would have died. Yet my father…he was holding me when they found us. But then he…when I woke up, she said he would come back. That he just needed…but he would come back because I was all he had left. She was so  _sure_. But…but it's been so long…I—I don't even know if she believes it anymore…." Ana's voice finally broke for good and she fell silent.

"Ana, I—" Poe tried, but the words didn't come. That he had no idea what to say in response to everything she had revealed was painfully clear. Ana forced breath after raw, aching breath into her lungs, willing her terror from that horrible night and all the pain and sorrow to go away.

It wasn't nearly so easy as that.

She sighed heavily, forcing back the tears that had been gathering to join the others that had already leaked out onto her cheeks. It was as though she hadn't even heard him. Neither could she bear to look at him, to meet his eye. She feared what she'd see in his dark eyes.

"You all hear the name Luke Skywalker and you think of a hero," she finally said, "I hear it, and all I can think is that he never came back. I tried to believe he was a hero. I tried, but I can't." Force, she hated how broken she sounded. Poe took a half step forward, reaching out to lay his hand on her arm. She leaned away from it.

"Just…just don't, Poe," she murmured, stepping haltingly back. He took another step toward her in response, but she just moved away again. After a long, painful moment, she chanced one quick, anguished look at him before spinning on her heel and fleeing. She hated the look of shock and disbelief, the horror and the sympathy—even pity—written plainly across his face.

Poe was about to follow when a small but firm hand landed on his arm.

"Let her go, Poe," the General said softly, "a lot has happened that she needs to process. She needs time. When she's ready, she'll find us." For an instant, Poe looked as though he was about to object, looking down at Leia incredulously before looking up to where Ana had disappeared.

"I knew, in my gut, that she'd lost someone—probably her parents—but…but this…shit, not this…not any of this." He looked back to Leia, feeling utterly helpless. "I didn't even know she had a sister…" Sighing heavily, he carded his fingers through his hair with frustration, unable to find anything more to say to the General, before turning and stalking off back into the Base.


	26. Chapter 25

Ana had always found solace in fixing things. She was like her namesake in that respect. Her Grandma Padme had always said her Grandfather was the same.

Her love and skill of tinkering and fixing anything mechanical was a trait she very much had inherited from her Grandfather Anakin. While her father was easily as skilled and talented a pilot as his father, he'd never quite had the same level of skill for mechanics that Ana and her grandfather had. Even her Uncle Han was, generally speaking, a better mechanic than her father. Sure, Luke had been a talented enough in his own right when the need arose, but he just hadn't quite had the same innate understanding of what made all things that ran, flew or hovered work as his father and daughter. Or rather, daughters; it was a talent that Kira too had been showing signs of inheriting. Even Ben, with all his apparent likeness to their shared grandfather, hadn't inherited Anakin's love of tinkering.

It was that skill, in part, that had led to Ana bonding as she had with her Uncle. Many an afternoon during their family visits had seen Ana and her Uncle disappearing into the innards of the  _Falcon_. It had been their time. Something special that they shared. A place where Ana could go to disappear and sort through whatever childhood frustration had left her upset or angry or verging on tears.

And it always helped. Her parents had been somewhat surprised by how easily she'd taken to fixing things and the comfort she took in it. Though, her father more than her mom, come to think of it. But her Grandma Padme had always understood. It was her Grandma that had been the one to finally track Ana down that very first time she and her Uncle had disappeared without a trace into the  _Falcon_. She'd known even then just how much like her Grandfather Ana was in that respect. In many respects, really. Just as she'd seemed to know just how easily Ana would ultimately relate to Anakin Skywalker.

How she suddenly wished her Grandma Padme was with her just then…a ache of longing pulsed in her gut. Somehow, without even being Force-sensitive, she'd always known what to say to make her feel better. Her and Ben. Everything had changed when Padme died…Ben had started to pull away, to change, seeming to withdraw even from her, at times.

There were even times when Ana couldn't help but think that her Grandma's death was what had started it all…and despite herself, a small shard of resentment twinged in her chest.

Only for it to fade in the face of how much she  _missed_  her Grandmother's gentle yet fiery spirit. Her fierce love for her and Ben…her whole family, really. Her soothing presence. She would know precisely what to say to ease the heartache and the grief she felt over her Uncle's—over losing him too.

In that moment, Ana missed her terribly.

Distantly, Ana recalled a story her Grandma had told her and Ben once, about when their great-grandmother had been killed, how Anakin had thrown himself into fixing his stepbrother's speeder, using the task to drown out his grief.

That he'd told her 'life's so much simpler when you're fixing things.'

It was something Ana could relate to intimately.

She found it was much easier to forget while fixing things.

And here she was, her own situation so closely mirroring her namesake's. It left her with an unexpected feeling of kinship, one she took a strange amount of comfort in.

So, following in her paternal grandfather's footsteps, since she was in desperate need of solace in the wake of her grief and following whatever that had been with Poe, Ana retreated to the  _Falcon_  and began to fix things. Pointedly ignoring Dr. Kalonia's order to rest and keep from doing anything too physically strenuous as she did so. She needed to  _do_  something. She needed to do something that would tire out her body and occupy her mind enough that the horrible memories and imaginations would fade. The ache in her collarbone was manageable, though working on the  _Falcon_  soon had it verging on too much. But it was an ache she could live with.

There were even moments when it made her feel better…

Besides, working herself to the point of exhaustion didn't sound so bad at the moment, either, especially if it meant a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hopefully one free of Force Dreams…her lip twisted bitterly at the thought.

She'd never given the island dream much thought. She'd even told Poe about it once, thinking so little of it that she hadn't seen the harm in sharing. But now? Since everything that had happened on Starkiller? Since the vision—hallucination?—of the Forest, of her mom? Her mouth had gone dry, her throat closing.

There had been more to the dream, this time. Or maybe she'd just been more aware…maybe she'd been able to  _sense_  more after what happened on Starkiller, after she'd pushed past the mental block she'd put up between herself and the Force.

That call, the  _need_ …urging her to…what? To find the island. To find what was hiding there. And overlaying it all…a comforting, subtle presence so elusive and so familiar…a presence she'd long since given up hope that she would feel again… One her subconscious now knew was…

Athara.

Her mother.

And she suddenly knew—she  _knew_ —it had been real. Or at least, as real as a dream could be.

She shook the thought free, gritting her teeth against the renewed ache of longing in her chest that nevertheless refused to abate. She needed to focus. She needed to let her work drown it all out. To sweat it away with the anxious, uneasy energy she could feel buzzing beneath her skin. From the realization that would inevitably follow the acceptance that her mom  _had_  been there with her on the  _Falcon_ ; that she'd shut her mom out along with the Force.

That her mom hadn't abandoned her…but by believing that she had, Ana had inadvertently turned her back on Athara.

And that was a realization she couldn't bear to accept. Not when her mother's presence was something she'd longed for since that first, horrible moment in the medical center when she'd understood her mom was gone…that  _everything_  was gone.

Hence the fixing things…

Stepping foot on the  _Falcon_  again was more painful than any of the physical injuries she had sustained on Starkiller. She almost couldn't do it. But the urge to do something to drown out the heartache and the nightmarish memories and the longing for something, some link to her Uncle, drove her on board.

And, as she hadn't dared hope, as she'd dug around collecting the tools she knew she was going to need, the sharp edges of her heartache slowly seemed to fade.

As she sorted through the hydrospanners and picked over the jumbled collection of pilex drivers and wrenches, rather than inspiring her sorrow to deepen the way she'd half-expected each of her Uncle's tools to do, the familiar weights and textures in her hands had soon provided a strange sort of comfort. She could swear she felt him there with her.

Oh, she knew he wasn't really; he hadn't been Force-sensitive, so she knew he couldn't exactly become a Force Ghost—not that she would've been able to see them, cut off as she was even if none of them seemed to appear anymore anyway—but she nevertheless felt like he was there with her. If her Uncle Han were anywhere, it would be here, on the  _Falcon_.

He was as much a part of this ship as the hyperdrive or the cockpit.

Because of that, she felt close to him here, and that helped. A lot.

So she had gone to work trying to set his ship to rights, starting with the landing jet decompression housing like she'd promised herself when she was dealing with the transponder mess. But that task took very little time and effort; it just needed some adjustment and tightening and it was done. Then, on her way back to the top hatch, she'd spied a loose coupling on the rectenna connection panel, so she took care of that while she was up top.

Once she was back inside, she had debated getting started on fixing the mess that had been made of her mag-control regulators, even going so far as to grab the things she needed to first disconnect the sublight regulation manifolds so she could work on the repulsorlift gyros without getting fried and to then start re-syncing the gyros. She didn't get that far, though, since as she was popping open the sublight engine access hatch, she realized that she should probably see how far Chewie had been able to get with sorting out the attempted tie-in job to the thrust control actuators and the resonance regulators. After all, if that wasn't fixed first, she'd just have to re-sync the gyros again once it was. With a groan she started closing up the sublight hatches.

And all thought of her uncle and her mother and her memories and that horrible, horrific night had become a distant shadow in the back of her mind, just as she'd intended. She was no longer thinking about what the Forest Vision meant or the consequences of touching the Force again would be or what the fallout from her spectacular loss of control to Poe would mean for their already uncertain yet still bizarrely stable…relationship? Could it be called that? Or was it still just a friendship, albeit a complicated one?

There was simply no room for any of it as she latched her focus desperately onto puttering away on her uncle's beloved ship as they'd used to do together.

Taking care of the thrust control actuators and the resonance regulators wasn't nearly as bad as she expected. Chewie had either been able to get far more done than she'd expected, the damage hadn't been as bad as she'd feared or some degree of both. Either way, with the regulators it was mostly just tidying and stabilizing Chewie's quick fixes and, since the actuators had nearly fried the attempted tie-in on their own, the bulk of the job there was mostly just a matter of cleaning up and clearing out the attempted bridging units. Then all that was left was some patching and rewiring on the actuators themselves and it was nearly as good as new.

With a groan Ana leaned back against the hyperdrive motivator, refusing to wish that her shoulder would stop hurting; she knew it was her own fault, so she wasn't about to complain about it, not even in her head.

But that didn't stop her from needing a minute for the pain to fade back to a more manageable level before she could even think of hauling herself back out of the maintenance hatch. She distracted herself by glancing over the hasty fix to one of the junctures on the motivator's fuel distribution systems; it was well done, she had to cede, though she couldn't understand why it would have needed to be done in the first place…until she remembered that Plutt or Ducain or whoever likely hadn't been doing a great job of maintaining the hyperdrive; but then, judging by someone's bright idea to put in a fuel pump, she changed that 'likely not' to 'definitely not.'

That then got her thinking about the fuel pump…she really wished she had shot Plutt when she'd had the chance.

It was another nice distraction…

Her train of thought was interrupted by a curious grumbling inquiry. Looking up, Ana saw Chewie kneeling at the edge of the hatch, waiting patiently for her to answer his question. Hauling herself to her feet, she managed to hide the grimace the ache in her shoulder nearly drew from her, smiling faintly at the wookiee as she climbed out of the maintenance hatch and settled on the ledge beside him.

"I was working on the thrust control actuator," she explained, trying her best not to let him see just how much her body hurt just then…he would likely forego asking her to return to the medical centre and just skip to carrying her there instead. "I think I have it and the resonance regulators squared away; I just need to get the mag-control regulators fixed up now. I was planning on getting started on those next, actually…unless you think the fuel pump should be done first." The wookiee simply stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Ana had never been quite as good at reading Chewie as her uncle had been, but she knew him well enough that she could usually figure him out. On this occasion, she was drawing a blank.

But then her gut twisted as she realized maybe he wasn't pleased, or was maybe even angry that she had simply gone ahead and started working on the  _Falcon_. She could feel the blood leaving her face at the thought. She dropped her gaze, suddenly unable to look at him.

"I—I'm sorry. Chewie, I should have asked before I—I just—I—" Her hand lifted to cradle her face, her head feeling suddenly heavy. Force, her whole body felt heavy. And she hated that she suddenly felt on the verge of tears again. She usually had much better control than this. She felt awful. She hadn't even considered how Chewie would take her working on the  _Falcon_  so soon after—

But then his furred arm was wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her in close against his side as a low, comforting rumble vibrated against her cheek.

More relieved than she could say, Ana leaned into the wookiee's hug as he assured her it was okay, that he understood her need to work on the  _Falcon_ , to do something. He then pointed out he'd been working on the sublight modulators outside himself, earning a smile from her when he started lightly complaining that they looked like they hadn't been cleaned out since he'd last done it.

But then he told her that the mag-control regulators were going to have to wait. Ana looked up to him with confusion.

"Why?" she blurted. He chuffed with amusement before explaining that he and Rey—the girl, Ana realized belatedly—were getting ready to leave on a mission; they had been asked by Leia to follow the map…

…to find her Father.

Ana suddenly felt like the  _Falcon_  itself was sitting on her chest. She couldn't help but stare at Chewie with hurt astonishment.

"Why didn't she ask me?" Talking around the ship-sized weight on her chest was hard, but she managed it without sounding too distraught. Chewie knew anyway, his voice distinctly sympathetic when he pointed out that not only did they need to reach Luke as quickly as possible since the First Order was undoubtedly coming for them, but she hadn't been cleared for missions because of her injury.

Not to mention she'd been hiding from everyone.

A flicker of irritation went through her and she was perfectly okay with allowing it to drown out the hurt Chewie's explanation had also caused.

"That's beside the point," she said back. It was supposed to be scathing, but she just ended up sounding sad. She was almost immediately berated herself for letting herself sound so disappointed, trying to convince herself she wasn't…or at least that she shouldn't be.

It didn't work.

Chewie stood then, offering her a hand up, which Ana was nearly reluctant to take. But learning that some random girl was going with Chewie to find Luke Skywalker—her own Father—had left Ana feeling far more emotionally drained and hurt than she was comfortable with. Taking the large, paw-like hand, Ana almost didn't need to do any of the work herself, the wookiee pulling her to her feet almost as soon as she had taken his hand.

Only to start as Chewie spoke once more.

"Aunt Leia wants to see me?" Ana repeated dully, "why? So she can tell me herself that she doesn't want me to go after my own father?" Only to yelp in surprise as a heavy hand cuffed her lightly on the back of the head. She scowled up at Chewie. "What was that for?" He actually chortled as he answered. Her scowl deepened.

"Well, maybe I don't want to go." And Chewie sobered, looking mournfully down at her as he countered her answer with one of his own. She looked back sullenly. He was convinced Leia was going to insist Ana come with. Well? Ana didn't want to. She'd confronted enough ghosts for the time being.

"No, Chewie. Besides, like you said: the First Order's on their way here. They'll need every hand to help with the evacuation. And every pilot." Chewie looked entirely unconvinced.

Then again, Ana wasn't wholly convinced herself, no matter how firmly she told herself she was.

But the wookiee didn't argue the point, knowing her well enough to know when she was verging on digging in her heels. Instead he just pulled her into a final reassuring hug before watching Ana descend the boarding ramp.

Turning as she reached the bottom, Ana caught a glimpse of the wookiee as he retreated to the cockpit. A sudden and powerful urge to go with anyway bloomed in Ana then, but she quickly fought to tamp it down. Why should she want to, she struggled to convince herself. After everything that happened? She hadn't been pulling excuses out of the air either. If the First Order was coming, they were going to need her, and she wanted to help. The Resistance was going to need all the help it could get if it was going to survive.

And bringing Luke Skywalker back wouldn't help? She shook the thought away. Perhaps he could, but Ana knew if she were to go, that would not be the reason. But after the way her father had abandoned her? She should never want to see him again! She kept telling herself she didn't want to see him again.

But she couldn't deny it either.

Part of her almost desperately wanted to go.

And Ana couldn't even manage to hate herself for it.

She was so caught up in her own internal battle that she was nearly thrown off balance as hard metal body nudged against her hip. Fighting back a curse, she looked down at the astrodroid next to her.

"Artoo, watch it! What was that for," she scolded lightly, unable to help the grin that tugged at her lips. Artoo snickered, as did N3 behind him. She shot the two astrodroids an exasperated look before finding her eyes drawn back to the  _Falcon_ 's boarding ramp. Artoo warbled questioningly. Ana's eyes snapped back to the blue and white droid. She sighed.

"I imagine you're going along too?" she asked, ignoring his question asking if she was alright. He answered in the affirmative before making a rather raspberry-ish sound in admonishment for not answering him and asking if she was coming along too, a question N3 seconded. She looked between the two of them, her eyes narrowing as she began to suspect they were about to gang up on her.

"No, I'm not. I'm not cleared for missions because of my crash on Starkiller," she explained, forcing herself to sound unconcerned. Artoo made another raspberry sound. Ana wrinkled her nose at him, only to have N3 start babbling at her himself. She couldn't help the outraged sound that escaped her before she answered.

"Yes, that is a real reason. Besides, maybe I don't want to go." They both stared up at her in silence, giving Ana the distinct impression that they were doing so with skepticism. She huffed. "Fine. I suppose I…sort of…do. Happy? But that doesn't change that I'm not cleared to. Neither have I been asked to." It was N3 who made the raspberry sound next, his whistling-beeping response sounding almost like he was daring her. She frowned.

"I wasn't a Commander last time I stowed away, N3. And I'm not that blithe about ignoring orders. I'm not about to desert my post just because I want to, now, am I. I ca—" Artoo interrupted her, earning himself a scolding glare that he ignored.

"I think I know that he's my father, Art—" N3 didn't let her finish either, insisting that he'd cover for her with the General, not that he thought she'd need to, before Artoo renewed his urging that she should be coming too. Ana didn't try to argue anymore, her suspicion that they were ganging up on her sufficiently proven. But after a moment she sighed heavily, her gaze sliding back to the boarding ramp of its own accord.

It was a small, hopeful sound from Artoo that nearly had her giving into the urge she'd been fighting since before the two astrodroids had ambushed her; she was so tired of resisting, what remained of her nearly drained energy waning fast.

"I—Artoo, I  _can't_ …" she said finally, her voice small and weary as her hand rose to rest against her forehead. "I—know I said…but I can't face him." She turned back to N3, "I just can't." N3 burbled sadly, trundling forward to bump lightly against her leg in sympathy. Sighing heavily, Ana's hand dropped to rest on his familiar green dome. Only to frown when he whistled softly as one of the flaps on his dome retracted. Ana paled at the custom compartment rather like one she knew Artoo had. It wasn't empty. Her breath hitched as she realized what was inside.

With a shaking hand she reached out, pulling the battered old lightsaber from the compartment. She looked to the green and silver droid in disbelief, turning it over in her hand.

"You've had this this whole time?" N3's confirmation was low and sad, sounding apologetic as he explained Leia had asked him to look after it once it became apparent Ana had cut herself off from the Force after everything that had happened; that she wouldn't have wanted it once she recovered from her injuries from the Academy attack if she was hurting enough to do that. Artoo's dark eye watched Ana as N3 spoke, not saying a word.

She looked down at her Grandfather Kenobi's lightsaber before holding it out to N3, her voice thick with emotions she wasn't interested in examining.

"I still don't want it," she said, deliberately dropping it back into the hidden compartment. The green droid tried to reason with her but she cut him off this time. "I don't, N3. I don't know what you mean about you and Aunt Leia thinking I'm 'ready' to have my Grandfather's lightsaber, but I'm not."

N3 just looked at her before solemnly stating she was.

And that her mother would have wanted her to go.

With that, he turned and trundled away, leaving a bewildered and immensely vulnerable Ana standing next to Artoo. She looked down to the blue and white astrodroid, hoping that perhaps he had some sort of explanation for her.

He didn't. He just looked at her in a way that could only be described as sad before turning himself and wheeling up the boarding ramp.


	27. Chapter 26

Fighting a crushing wave of heartache, Ana merely wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Stubborn little droids, she scoffed to herself as she watched Artoo trundle up the Falcon's boarding ramp, pretending to herself that the telltale prickling behind her eyes wasn't there. Now wasn't the time to go running off to confront her father. Besides, what good would it do? What could he possibly have to say for himself that would make everything alright?

Not to mention that she would be abandoning the Resistance to do so.

Around her, the Base was beginning to come to life again, personnel beginning to gather in anticipation of the  _Falcon_  departing and to start preparing for the inevitable evacuation. Already Ana could see crates and pallets being pulled out to begin packing up the fighter bays and she imagined the same was beginning to happen underground in the Command Centre too. Off in the distance, she could hear the faint, distinct rumble of the  _Flame_ 's engines cycling on in preparation for take off and not far away, overheard two techs passing the word between them that the  _Anodyne_  was a half-hour out and the  _Raddus_  another two. There was no word yet on the  _Ninka_  and the  _Vigil_  was due any minute.

No, she was needed here. Clearing her throat and physically shaking her head to force all thought of following Artoo onto the  _Falcon_  or of the lightsaber nestled safe inside her own astromech companion, she instead intended to throw herself into preparing for the evacuation. There was no point in dwelling on the anxiety or the grief the old weapon was suddenly bringing out in her, after all, just as she admitted there was nothing more to be done about her feelings about her father right now.

Prepping and ensuring the  _Flame_  was being properly loaded, on the other hand, that she could do.

After allowing herself one final look at her uncle's beloved ship, Ana turned and walked purposefully away, foregoing a trek through the base in favour of taking the shorter route between the berms, through one of the maintenance bays.

Only to find herself nearly colliding with the Jakku girl. Ana started, freezing as she got her first real look at the girl. The girl Kylo Ren had taken, who Ana'd had such a strong impulse to help…the one her uncle had been helping. The girl who was, even now, about to leave with Chewie to find Luke Skywalker.

Ana's chest tightened painfully as those large hazel eyes bored keenly into her own blue ones. And a feeling swelled deep beneath her breastbone, making it hard to draw breath.

Somehow, she knew this girl.

But the girl—Rey, Ana's memory dimly supplied—just stared before smiling at her, adjusting the pack and quarterstaff she had hanging off her shoulder. Ana nearly blinked in surprise, the moment and its feeling ebbing away in a heartbeat. The expression was so friendly and nearly innocent.

"You're Commander Adyé, aren't you." Ana was nearly taken aback at the girl's question. Mutely, she nodded. Rey's smile widened. "You're alright, then," only for her to hesitate, her cheeks pinking slightly. "Sorry. I knew that, already. I saw you," she gestured absently back toward the Command Centre, "in there, right before Artoo and BB-8 put the map together."

But then she frowned slightly, looking to Ana curiously. "But I didn't see you after. You are alright, aren't you? You weren't looking so good when you came into the Command Centre." Ana was so taken aback, she hadn't been able to say a word despite the girl leaving gaps in her rambling for Ana to break in. But Ana finally managed to regain control over her own voice.

"I'm sorry, but how do you know me?" she broke in. Rey looked abruptly abashed.

"I saw you being brought into the medical centre with Chewbacca and General Organa from the  _Falcon_  and I, well, I asked Chewie who you were." Her eyes were suddenly lighting up again, and Ana realized the girl hadn't nearly collided with her by accident. She'd sought Ana out. "You were the Resistance pilot that took out the weapons relay station on Starkiller, weren't you. Finn and I saw it from the oscillator; it was an amazing move. But then I heard you had to put your fighter down, and that's why you were on the  _Falcon_  with us just before the planet exploded." Ana was nearly shocked into silence again, nodding instinctively in confirmation as she processed what the girl was saying. How did she know all this? As though seeing the question written on Ana's face—which was entirely likely, as Ana knew her mouth was hanging open in astonishment—Rey once again grew abashed. "Chewie," she said almost shyly by way of explanation. Only to grow thoughtful.

"Are you coming with us now?" she suddenly blurted out. Ana jerked at the question.

"What?"

"To find Master Skywalker," Rey clarified, gesturing over Ana's shoulder toward the  _Falcon_ , "General Organa said that you might be coming along." Ana suddenly felt cold, her stomach quivering uncomfortably. Before she could even formulate the words to answer, she was shaking her head no.

"I'm needed here. To help with the evacuation," Ana nearly blurted, not quite sure just how she managed to sound so collected when it felt like her insides were about to shake apart. "I'm—I captain the  _Flame_  when I'm not flying fighters… Besides, I'm still not technically cleared from what happened on Starkiller and Dr. Kalonia would have my head if I even considered going off on a mission of any kind just yet." Rey nodded absently in understanding, but if anything, her frown deepened as she met Ana's eye.

And there was that feeling again…

"Why you?" the girl asked curiously. "The General didn't say why, but the way she spoke of you…it sounded like she had a particular reason for it to be you to come with us." Ana swallowed thickly, praying her voice was level as she answered and not the wavering mess she feared it might be. It was hard enough fighting to keep the conflicting emotions once again twisting her gut from being broadcast on her features.

"I—I kno—knew Han, and I know Chewie—I'm probably one of the few in the Resistance who can even understand Shyriiwook," she forced out, only barely able to keep her voice steady. "And I know the  _Falcon_. Or I did. Han and Chewie probably told her about the issues they'd been finding and she thought you should have another hand along to help deal with them." The almost-lie came surprisingly easily despite the guilty way her stomach flipped. But mercifully the girl seemed satisfied by it even if she didn't look entirely convinced. Her lip tugging in a mix of sympathy and her own sorrow, the girl nodded, murmuring a soft set of condolences and a 'pleased to meet you' followed a farewell of some kind before beginning to edge away.

And Ana let her go, barely registering Rey's words.

The feeling of recognition, on the other hand…

Ana just couldn't place it. And neither did it seem to want to leave her alone, her subconscious insisting that she knew Rey from somewhere. Not even when Rey was stopped by Leia, her aunt sparing Ana a sad, concerned look before passing along her own farewell to the Jakku girl. The very familiar Jakku girl…Ana shook her head irritably.

Why was she letting it bother her so much? Her mind was probably just making more out of a passing similarity to someone else than there actually was to it. The girl was a nobody from Jakku. The likelihood that Ana  _actually_  knew her was slim to none; she briefly thought about the odds Threepio would likely rattle off were she to ask him, taking some amusement and reassurance from the amusing mental image. And with that she pushed the annoyingly persistent thought away. What did it matter that the girl looked vaguely familiar? It didn't. There were simply too many other, more pressing things to worry about, like how in Tatoo's round were they going to evacuate the Base on time.

Yet the niggling, unsettled feeling persisted, like a feather-light itch in the back of her brain.

Especially given that this 'nobody' was the one her Aunt had chosen to join the mission to find Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master…the mission she apparently wanted Ana to join as well…

"You're not going." Ana shut her eyes against the bitter resignation that rose up to battle the broken remnants of her childish wish at the sound of her aunt's voice. She turned to Leia and nearly lost it again. The pained sympathy there was almost too much for her to handle.

"I can't," she said simply, her trembling voice saying far more than the two little words she'd managed to get out. Leia let out a long, slow breath before responding.

"And what do your feelings say." Ana scoffed at her aunt's question.

"My feelings," she muttered scathingly before deflating. "My feelings are a mess. Even if I did still believe they could somehow guide me, that the Force held some influence over them, I don't even know what they'd be saying." Leia smiled sadly.

"That's because you don't trust them, Ana," the older woman said gently, "because you don't trust the Force." Ana's gaze snapped to her aunt, irritation threatening to bubble up and drown out her heartache. She was sincerely tempted to let it.

"Why," she muttered. "Why should I trust the Force when it's done nothing but let me down?" She turned to her aunt then as a question that had been eating at her since it first occurred to her in the depths of the  _Falcon_  all but leapt to her lips.

"He woke up." Ana watched her aunt's reaction closely. Leia's face was carefully composed despite the non sequitur as she turned her attention fully to Ana, waiting patiently for her to elaborate. Ana's eyes narrowed. "Artoo. He was waiting for the rest of the map, wasn't he." It was not a question. But Leia's expression didn't falter, giving away very little as Ana's accusing tone washed over her. "He started waking up when BB-8 told him the rest had been found. You knew he would wake up, didn't you. You knew Artoo had a way to find my father hidden away in his memory banks, that you just needed to find the rest. That's why you worked so hard to track it down, to find San Tekka. You hoped he'd still have a copy of the piece he gave my parents." Finally, Leia's head nodded in response, her calm appraisal of Ana giving way to something Ana tentatively identified as sympathy. But not apology. Not exactly.

"You're right," the General admitted softly, "after a fashion." She paused then, thoughtful as she considered how best to word what she wanted to say. "While you were recovering, I asked Artoo if he knew where Luke had gone. He admitted Luke had deleted the memory file containing the map—the complete map—from his memory systems." She smiled wryly, then. "But Artoo was sure he still had the original file—the incomplete one—buried somewhere deep in his memory banks, from many, many years ago, when he downloaded part of the Death Star's database when we were trapped on board. And he remembered a visit from Lor San Tekka shortly before the map was completed. So he went dormant, deep-diving into his memories in search of it. I  _hoped_  he would eventually be able to find it, that Artoo had a way for us to find Luke. And I began to search for Lor."

Ana's throat suddenly felt tight, and hurt and a stinging sense of betrayal took up residence in her chest.

"For the Resistance?" Leia didn't flinch at the venom in Ana's voice or the accusation itself, though disappointment began to shadow her features. Ana's stomach twisted with shame, but she held her ground, stubbornly setting her jaw. Bewilderingly, the trace of a fond grin tugged at her aunt's lip for a split-second.

"For you," she confessed bluntly. "When I started looking, trying to track down Lor, it was for you, Ana. The Resistance came later, but it was still for your sake." Sympathy flooded her aunt's features along with a deep, helpless sadness. "You were so lost, so hurt, Ana-girl. I knew you needed to find him, to see him again for there to be any hope of you healing from everything you went through." Ana stubbornly swallowed back a sob, irritably swiping at her prickling eyes.

"Assuming I can be healed," she snapped. But the bitter words fell flat, pierced by the misery that slipped out right along with them. Leia fixed Ana with a firm look.

"You have to want to be, Ana," she countered gently before nodding toward the  _Falcon_. "And there's your way to find it." Ana glanced up at the familiar old ship, a small, fragile speck of hope trying to fight through the heartache swamping her. But she couldn't quite believe in it. She turned back to Leia, her expression bordering on pleading.

"What could I possibly find at the end of that path, Aunt Leia," she choked out. "Even  _if_  reuniting with my father goes the way you hope, I can't just pick up that life again. I'm not…I—I  _can't_  be a Jedi. The very idea of using the Force, it—"  _terrified her_ , but the words caught painfully in her throat. But Leia seemed to hear them regardless. Ana shook her head almost violently. "I—I can't…" she drew in a shuddering breath, willing her voice to strengthen which it, mercifully, did, "It's not easy the way it was before, Aunt Leia—I'm not who I was before. I don't  _want_  to be a Jedi anymore!" Leia took Ana's hands in both hers and squeezed tightly.

"You don't have to be," Leia said, nearly pleading. "You just need to be  _Ana_. And since That Night? All you've been is lost; a shadow of who you were…of who you are meant to be." She sighed, laying a hand on Ana's cheek. Inhaling another shaking breath, Ana couldn't help but lean into it, feeling a little like, through the contact alone, she was soaking up a little of her aunt's strength.

"But I don't know how to be anything else, anymore," Ana whispered, her voice small and quavering. Her aunt's hand dropped to Ana's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Yes you do," Leia said gently. "You just need to let yourself. And this?" She gestured toward the  _Falcon_  again. "This is your first step, Ana. A step you have to take." A small, fluttering sense of  _right_  woke in the warm, safe place in the back of Ana's mind. But she bristled as panic suddenly flared to consume it.

"Why," she demanded defensively, "why do I 'have' to take it? Maybe I don't want it. Maybe I'm happier without the Force." Leia's face as she listened to Ana's reactionary objection betrayed nothing but wry patience.

"Are you?" The simple, earnest question stung, and Ana grit her teeth against it. Leia watched her expectantly, as though wholly aware of the way Ana's doubts, desires and instincts, both learned and inborn, were suddenly battling within her.

Just as she seemed to know the moment Ana's long festering uncertainties and her deeply ingrained fears won out.

Sighing heavily, Leia's shoulders slumped minutely. "I can't force you to choose, Ana. And neither can I choose for you," she said, a weary edge to her tone. "It's a choice you have to make." Her dark eyes grew intense, then. Sharp and knowing. "But I think we both know that staying behind is not the right one." Ana said nothing, dropping her gaze to the grass at her feet as her hands pulled from Leia's, her arms winding tight around her torso.

After a moment more of silently considering Ana, the General looking up toward the  _Falcon_ 's cockpit and nodded once, solemnly. Ana didn't even have to look herself to know her aunt had given Chewie the signal to lift off.

That Ana wasn't going with them.

She'd missed her chance.

Choking back the sob that suddenly threatened to claw up her throat, Ana turned on her heel.

"Ana?" She paused, but she didn't look back as her aunt called after her. "N3 knows the way. When you change your mind, he'll know where to go." Ana swallowed thickly, but stubbornly fled into the Base, weaving through the gathering crowd and away from the mistake she knew, deep in her gut, she was making.

Behind her, the  _Falcon_ 's engines roared to life.


	28. Chapter 27

It seemed impossible that only a few days ago Ana had returned to find the D'Qar base alive with an almost cheerful, purposeful bustle.

Now, it bordered on chaotic.

Sure, there had almost always been an underlying sense of chaos on the base. It was unavoidable, what with constrained resources and personnel being pulled in a dozen different directions at once. But there had never been quite the sense of dire urgency there was now.

They were evacuating the base. A hard, heavy lump had formed in Ana's gut watching the once comforting liveliness of the base grow frantic. D'Qar had become something akin to home to her. The Base had been here for years, and it felt odd, surreal, even, to Ana that they'd likely never come back. Or that if they did, it wouldn't be the same.

The First Order was coming.

And the Base itself was now living on borrowed time

But at least she'd had a little time to calm down and get her head back on right before the urgency had truly kicked in. And in that vein, starting to coordinate loading the  _Flame_  had done wonders for helping her to lock away everything that had broken free since she'd regained consciousness in the med-centre earlier that day.

It was amazing what responsibility and an attention-consuming task could accomplish.

And now the urgency was upon them. The  _Vigil_  had reached D'Qar not long after the  _Falcon_  had departed, followed by the  _Anodyne_  shortly after that. And the  _Raddus_  had appeared in orbit barely an hour ago. The only ship they still waited on was the  _Ninka_ , which was still at least a half hour away.

It was the  _Raddus_ ' arrival that had truly sparked off the evacuation in earnest. Loaded shuttles were suddenly grumbling to life now that they had ships to deposit their loads into. Both within and without the base voices were quickly rising, more and more of them edged with panic and even desperation as minutes passed and orders took effect. It was as though the volume had suddenly been raised across the entire base. And order felt like it had been tossed away along with the near leisurely pace of the evacuation until that point. Hectic wasn't a strong enough word now that the reality of their situation had hit home. It was grim. And it was desperate.

But there was still order to be had, if one knew to look for it. How could there be anything else given the General's firm hand at the controls, Ana mused wryly.

Behind her, the  _Flame_ 's engines were beginning to spool up from their idling, the red corvette fully fuelled and nearly full to its cargo capacity. It had taken a near frantic pace to get her loaded—not to mention an uncertain vacillation back and forth over whether to leave the old T-65 X-wing Ana had stowed in the mid-sized ship's lower cargo/hangar bay or to remove it to allow for more supplies to be loaded; she'd chosen to keep it aboard—but the  _Flame_  was finally ready to head into orbit. They were just waiting for the last couple repulsorlift loads to be settled and secured into the cargo bays.

That and their final clearance.

Which, if Ana wasn't mistaken, was heading toward her now in the form of a rather harried looking command tech.

"Commander Adyé? Your presence is required in the Command Centre." Or not. Ana frowned. The Command Centre?

"Briefing?" she asked as she handed off the manifest datapad she'd been perusing to the ops officer who'd given it to her, sparing the young Tarsunt a nod of approval before turning her path to the heart of the base. The command tech nodded, falling into step beside her.

"Yes, Commander. We have confirmation that the First Order is on their way. The General wants to have a plan in place to hold them off if it comes to it." Ana nodded her understanding at the brisk but noticeably nervous explanation.

As if things hadn't seemed dire enough already.

So much for the hope that they'd have more time.

Dismissing the tech with a nod as she reached the stairs descending into the base, Ana all too quickly found herself stepping into the Command Centre, only barely missing getting clipped with a repulsorlift wheeling out one of the comm station data banks. But as the lift continued on its way and she was able to step past, she was hit by a sudden and unsettling onset of nerves.

The display was already well attended, with Leia presiding over the gathering, flanked by Threepio and Admirals Ackbar and Statura. A projection of Vice Admiral Jotis, who was already aboard the  _Vigil_ , stood next to Statura while Vice Admiral Resdox and Majors Brance and Ematt stood across from them. Filling out the ranks was a collection of what squadron commanders were in the system and a handful of techs and other pilots. But she honestly barely even noticed who was all gathered around the display, waiting for the last stragglers to file in.

Standing not far from her aunt, already focused on talking over strategy with Ackbar and a handful of the pilots, was Poe.

Ana swallowed thickly, forcibly shoving her anxiety away. She could do this. She could act as though nothing had changed. She'd only just blurted out just about every dark and painful secret she had to her best friend—and maybe more than a friend, a hopeful little corner of her mind piped up unhelpfully. It didn't matter that they were secrets she'd kept in the first place because she was terrified of the fall-out were even one of them to get out. She'd probably only completely overwhelmed him and scared him off with the ugliness her past contained and the evidence of how badly it was still affecting her. That he now understood why she fought so hard to keep her secrets…why it was safer to keep people out.

Force, what had she done…

A sharp lump formed in her throat as the sudden certainty that her lack of control over her demons had irrevocably damaged what she had with the dashing Commander. Sure, keeping such monumental secrets would never have worked in the long run—she was realistic enough to be well aware of that—but maybe had she eased him into it, there might have been a chance…but blindsiding him like that? This was why it was better to keep her past buried and forgotten.

Because the fallout from sharing her secrets was bound to be worse than keeping them.

She was a Skywalker who refused to own her heritage, and one of the few people in the Galaxy—on their side, at least—who didn't actively worship Luke Skywalker. That alone was going to be cause for tension. Add in that she was arguably born to become a powerful Jedi but had no intention of ever touching the Force much less embracing it, that she was certain it had all but abandoned her just as her father had? And that wasn't even counting the scars, physical and emotional, that she still had from That Night. So she could completely understand the impulse he was likely to have to wash his hands of her.

There were days she longed to do the same thing.

So she fought to steel herself against the inevitable rejection.

She inhaled deeply, willing her features into a neutral expression, pretending her insides didn't feel on the verge of shaking apart.

This was exactly what she'd escaped to the  _Falcon_  to avoid thinking about.

Well, this and a couple other things.

She swallowed back a renewed welling of grief, trying to force it away along with her dread. As her aunt always said, there was no time for their sorrows, not until after the battle was over.

She almost succeeded too. At least, she'd been almost sure she had her emotions back in hand. Enough so that she was able to shoot her aunt a small, reassuring smile when Leia looked up to see Ana approaching the display.

But then Poe caught sight of her arrival.

And Ana nearly choked as he straightened minutely, his attention fixing on her as his features brightened with…no, that couldn't be relief she saw…

And suddenly a faint, fragile glimmer of hope was trembling beneath her breastbone.

But she couldn't deny it. Not having come to know him as well as she had.

"Adyé, you made it," he said with a teasing cast to his voice and a roguish grin, "we were worried you were going to sit this one out." Ana met Poe's eye and her stomach flipped. There was so much more to the comment—dare, even—than just an implied question, no matter that it was framed as it was; as ribbing banter just begging for a snappy comeback. She could see it in the intent way he was looking at her, gauging her. She could see it in the concern in his usually laughing dark eyes.

He was asking, genuinely, under the guise of teasing her, if she was okay. If she had been able to start putting herself back together after the way she'd fallen apart.

If they were still okay despite the way he'd pushed her until she'd snapped.

Taking a deep breath, Ana instinctively prepared for the wave of hurt and even betrayal she knew was going to come at the reminder of what he'd gotten her to reveal, of everything she'd said, of the memories she'd been forced to relive because he'd been too stubborn to simply allow her to run off and hide away without even a cursory explanation.

Only it never came.

Sure, there was some lingering irritation and perhaps a little resentment directed at him just now, but that had almost as much to do with her own reaction over anything he'd done…and there was some faint amusement, she realized with a trace of surprise, at the setup to shoot a playful dig of her own right back.

But there was a surprising lack of heated feelings or true resentment over the way he'd chased her down and pushed her to open up about everything she'd been suppressing, everything she'd been hiding from him. If anything, there was a surprisingly strong longing deep in her gut to circle the display and burrow into his familiar embrace. To take advantage of the fact that she now had someone else she cared about and trusted who knew everything…or at least, the worst of it.

To take comfort in knowing that it didn't look like he had been scared off even now that he knew about the ghost and shadows in her past.

Because she could see it. She  _knew_  just from seeing the way he was looking at her.

He had no intention of going anywhere.

And she realized with a wrenching pang that was what she had feared most, that that was what truly lay at the heart of her reluctance to finally open up and tell him the worst of it.

Not the fear of reliving it, though that certainly contributed, but the fear that he'd pull away from her once he knew.

That he would realize she was far too…damaged.

And that he would leave her too.

Her pulse quickened as the realization sank in. That she felt quite…at peace with the reality that he knew. And her unease melted away.

It felt like a weight had been lifted…or had started lifting. The weight of her past was still crushing, especially when her memories were as close to the surface as they had been the last couple days. But having shared it?

Perhaps Poe had been onto something. That her outburst had been just what she'd needed. That her control had  _needed_  to crack. Lancing the wound, as it were, rather than the salting of it that she'd always instinctively feared sharing would feel like.

Before she could help herself, a smirk was curling her lips. No, she was still faintly uneasy, given that she had no definitive way to gauge how he was processing what she'd revealed from a look alone, but he seemed to be taking it in stride so far.

So she would take comfort from it regardless, until she knew for sure.

"It'll take far more than flying my fighter into the ground to keep me down, Dameron," she quipped back cheekily. Around them, the other assembled Resistance members chuckled and chortled, one or two of the pilots clapping her lightly on the shoulder as she took her place in their ranks. Off to the side, she noticed her aunt shaking her head with exasperation, though there was a gravity mingled with a flicker of relief there that hinted Leia had picked up that there was more to Poe's quip and Ana's reply than face value.

Poe just grinned his familiar charming grin. But there was no hiding the relief in his eyes. Not from her.

"Okay," Ana said, mentally shaking the thought away so she could focus on the task at hand. "What's the plan?"

Poe glanced to Leia, his expression sobering. "General?" At Leia's nod of permission, he continued. "The First Order's coming and there's a very good chance we're not going to be gone when they get here. So we need to be ready." Nervous but agreeing murmurs circled the display, heads nodding and faces growing thoughtful. Poe glanced to each one in turn. "So what do we do?"

"Well, we know they're not going to go easy on us," Snap piped up grimly, "not after we blew up their sun-gun." Nien Nunb seconded that just as sedately, if less politely.

"Our best chance is to hold them off long enough to finish the evacuation," Admiral Ackbar declared succinctly. "We don't have the resources or the firepower for a full-scale engagement." A few places down, Leia and Statura exchanged a brief look, the Admiral leaning in, undoubtedly relaying some calculation for timeframe or some such to the General while each of the Fleet's present admirals exchanged sedate looks of their own. That there was a consensus on the proposal could've gone unsaid. Everyone around the display was painfully aware of the truth to the old Mon Calamari's statement.

"We're not outfitted to take on the First Order here and now," Leia agreed sedately, "retreat is our best option." She turned to Ackbar, Jotis, Ana and Resdox in turn. "Status on our ships?"

"The  _Anodyne_  is in the early stages of loading," Resdox offered first. "Most of the medical supplies and equipment from the medical center are being split and loaded between us, the  _Vigil_ and the  _Raddus_  as we speak." Next to him Vice Admiral Jotis straightened as his fellow Admiral passed the floor to him.

"The  _Ninka_  is due anytime," Jotis took up next, his image flickering faintly, "but like the  _Vigil_ , loading should go relatively quickly once it arrives. We're drawing close to capacity, not counting personnel, and munitions are still to start loading, though they are up next."

"The  _Flame_ 's at capacity for cargo," Ana added then, nodding briefly toward Jotis as she continued, "and like the  _Vigil_ , all that's left, really, is personnel. But they can be ferried up in shuttles. Otherwise, she's ready for lift-off pending clearance; I'd rather not risk her being planetside when the First Order drops on us," she finished. A few nods indicated a general agreement with her feelings. But Leia's expression was veiled as she looked to Ana with an agreeing nod of her own. Ana frowned at the look, her mouth opening to ask if there was something else the General had in mind, but a subtle gesture from Leia had Ana hesitating. After the briefing, it said. Curious, Ana nevertheless let it go for the time being.

Satisfied with the . on the evacuation itself, Poe looked around the display again. "Okay, so what are they likely to bring down on us?" he redirected, bringing them back around to the task at hand.

"Well, rumour has it they've got an operational  _Mandator IV_ -class siege dreadnought, now—" Brance offered up first, sounding nearly resentful of the fact. Not that Ana could blame him.

A faint murmur took up around the display at that, but Bastian frowned, glancing around the display before speaking up. "Didn't one of our contacts pass us some general schematics on those monsters?"

"They did," Statura confirmed grimly, tapping away on the console in front of him for a moment, "they're right here." As a projection of the massive First Order ship materialized, the mutters grew in volume and disparagement, some of which was decidedly vulgar.

"—so it's entirely possible they're going to bring that along…" Brance continued, finishing his thought. The chatter faltered for a moment before renewing.

"Let's hope not," Lieutenant Starck commented from further around the display, "or we don't have a chance."

"We might," Admiral Jotis countered, a thoughtful expression on his face as he looked up to the display. One that a few of the others around the table similarly wore. Including Poe.

"Might?" Brance, questioned, sounding rather doubtful. Statura nodded.

"There's a good chance that, if like their Star Destroyers, this new dreadnought has integrated kyber crystals into its weapons designs and power distribution, hitting the reactor hard enough would at the very least cripple the entire ship, if not create cataclysmic system failure." If anything, Poe brightened as Statura pointed out his analysis with gestures to the projection where it was highlighting the reactor in question.

"And that reactor core looks awfully vulnerable compared to the ones on their Star Destroyers," Poe added thoughtfully. "We send our bombers in there—"

"The turbolaser embankments covering the dorsal aspect would rip them apart before they even got close," Ackbar countered irritably. "Such an attack would be suicide." But Poe was already thinking ahead of the objection.

"So we take out the turbolasers. One fighter, one of those new accelerator pod—"

"Those pods are still experimental, Poe," Ana broke in.

But Poe waved it off. "Trials have all been good so far."

"And if they don't bring the dreadnought?" Major Ematt broke in, preventing Ana from arguing, "what then?"

"He's right," Statura ceded, exchanging a glance with Poe.

"Okay, shelve that thought for a minute," Poe agreed, reluctantly and visibly switching gears away from thoughts of taking down a dreadnought, "what else could we see?"

"At the very least, we're going to be seeing some of their  _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyers," Snap jumped in, readjusting the display so that a First Order Star Destroyer was projected right next to the dreadnought along with a rather intimidating weapons breakdown on the brutes, "ones that make the Empire's  _Imperial_ -class look like kiddie toys."

"How do we defend against them?" Resdox asked grimly. "The  _Raddus_ ' shields could handle that kind of bombardment, but the rest of us wouldn't be able to for long. Not to mention our fighter squadrons are significantly depleted, limiting our defence against their fighters."

"The  _Flame_  can run some cover if need be, backing up the fighters at least in part," Ana said then, glancing between the General, Ackbar and the two Vice Admirals. Jotis scoffed.

"A cargo ship run cover? For Capital ships?" he challenged skeptically. Ana bristled, her eyes narrowing, and before she could help herself she was snapping back.

"A smuggler's ship, Vice Admiral, and a damned good one at that," she replied coolly. Off on the other side of the display a poorly concealed smirk was spreading across Poe's face while a couple of the other pilots attempted to hide grins and chortles.

"Smuggler's ship, cargo ship; it makes little difference, Commander," Jotis dismissed, "the  _Flame_  is not a combat ship." Ana straightened, feeling stung on her ship's—her  _mother's_  ship—behalf. Her eyes narrowed at the Admiral's projected form as she drew herself up to her full, albeit not terribly substantial, height, and looked him straight in the eye.

And she did something she wouldn't even have considered a mere two days before.

"And the  _Vigil_  is? I assure you, Jotis," Ana snapped irritably, "Athara Skywalker's ship is far more than  _just_  a smuggler's ship." A startled hush fell over the gathered Resistance personnel, very few of them having realized the  _Flame_ 's history.

Across the display, a glimmer of pride had appeared in Leia's eyes.

But Ana didn't notice. Neither could she help herself from laying into the Vice Admiral, the urge to defend her mother's ship just spilling out despite the anxious flutter in her gut. "Not only is she a veteran of the Battle of Endor," she said, doing her best to channel the cool, unflappable control her mother has always possessed as she spoke, "but the  _Flame_ 's got better shields and is more heavily armed than most ships twice her size. The argument could even be made that she's more of a warship than the  _Vigil_  is. I assure you, she's more than capable of holding her own against a few TIE fighters." Jotis bristled, but he didn't get a chance to voice whatever he was opening his mouth to say.

"Vice Admiral, Commander," Leia broke in sternly, only barely hiding her wry grin as she spared a glance to Ana, "back on topic, please?" Grudgingly Jotis backed down and Ana nodded curtly in response. Quickly enough, the discussion of their best options for defending the fleet until the evacuations were complete was starting up once again, urgency forcing them to move on when, judging by the odd looks between Ana and Jotis, a few of the onlookers would've preferred to let the digression go on a little longer.

And Poe numbered among them easily, his smirk as he caught Ana's eye clearly saying that he had enjoyed watching her set Jotis straight about the red Corellian corvette.

But as she watched him dive back into the discussion going on around them, she could also see the fire in him beginning to burn brighter. The fire that fuelled his resolve to stand against—to fight—the First Order. And her stomach flipped uncomfortably at the observation. He was readying himself to bring the fight to them, to make them hurt. For the Republic and the millions—billions, even—of lives already lost; for the Resistance. And as he stole a glance at her, she realized that some of it was even for her. Ana's breath caught, her chest tightening. Some of that fire was on her behalf, for what she had suffered.

He was eager for a fight.

And the first strains of worry twisted in her gut.

Right alongside the same smoldering embers she too possessed. The same embers every remaining Resistance member held deep inside.

But Ana forced herself to bank her personal fire. Her aunt was right. Now was not the time for a drawn-out fight, she reminded herself firmly. Now was the time to retreat. To survive.

If they got drawn into a fight today, Ana feared just as she suspected her aunt did that the Resistance would be lost. Just as Ackbar had said, they just weren't ready for a full-scale, drawn-out engagement. They didn't have the numbers, the ships or the resources. They needed regroup. They needed to build themselves up.

They needed allies.

Or they would be lost.

The Resistance was teetering on the edge of flickering out, no matter the resolve every single member possessed, by virtue of their dwindled numbers alone.

As discussion and debate circled on around her—ideas to bring out the bombers being thrown around or to organize a blitz assault with what fighters they had left—she was made painfully aware of that fact.

It was going to be a desperate fight, whether it was a pitched battle or diversionary skirmish.

No. They needed to live to fight another day. Running was their best chance.

So a plan came together.

The trick now was going to be resisting temptation and sticking to it regardless of the opportunities that might come. And seeing the light in her Hotshot's eyes? That was quite possibly going to be far easier said than done.

Glancing around to everyone surrounding the display, Poe finally looked to the General, searching for her final approval. At her solemn nod, Poe straightened.

"Alright, so we prep the fighters and the bombers. We hold off whatever they bring down on us long enough to get our ships away. Hopefully we can do some real damage in the meantime. Back 'em off a bit and give our ships the time they need." Around the display, the mood had brightened noticeably now that there was a workable strategy, heads nodding and hands clasping as minds turned to the tasks ahead. With one final look, Poe gave a satisfied nod of his own, his expression just as grim yet confident as it had been leading up to Starkiller, his eyes bright and eager.

"Alright," he concluded, "let's move."

And in a flurry of activity, the briefing was adjourned.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Questions, comments, exclamations of disbelief or approval, theories or grievances…all welcome! (so long as it's related to the story, of course :P)
> 
> May the Force be with you!


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